Illusion
by Inscriber
Summary: The Team awakens to find they aren't a team. Thier lives as superheroes were only a test to see how the teenage brain could cope with situations. As the teens try to fit into their real lives, they must accept that the simulation was a dream. Or is it?
1. Dreams

"_The truth is rarely pure and never simple"_

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><p><strong>Chapter One: Dreams<strong>

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><p>The sounds of people moving a talking shuffled around them, and Wally was the last to fight his way to consciousness. His body felt numb and unused, and his eyes were squeezed tightly together, as though someone had cemented them shut. He shifted – well, he tried to, but he found only a weak movement. It took all of his strength to order his fingers to flex. He would have looked around, but he could feel a pressure over his face and focused on the bridge of his nose. A helmet or mask of some kind was covering his face.<p>

"_What?" _Wally thought confusedly, but then he heard noises around him. People were moving around him. The more he concentrated, the more he could identify what they were saying. They were mumbling on and on about some experiment.

"_Is this it? He's the last one? Is the procedure complete?_" a husky voice asked from

"_Yes, the simulation is ending. All subjects are regaining consciousness,"_ A feminine voice offered in an upbeat tone.

"_Very good. Let's remove the helmets – remember, the simulations were very lucid. The candidates will be confused at first,"_ The huskier voice added.

Then the helmet was lifted off his head, his fiery red hair sticking up in all directions as he lazily forced himself up and tried hard not close his eyes from the lights that glinted over his head. His head ached from the movement, and the room swiveled, making it hard for him to focus. His hands flew o his head as though to steady himself, though one he used the heel of one hand to rub at his eyes.

"What…?" he mumbled before his foggy brain caught up with himself, "Where am I? And who are _you_?" the speedster demanded, catching sight of the man in front of him.

The guy was tall and chubby, his doctor's robe buttoned tightly against his skin. A large stethoscope was hanging from around his neck, and a thick beard plastered the edges of his chin. Wide-framed glasses stood out in front of his two beady eyes that were currently looking at him with concern. Definitely not a villain that he recognized.

Wally sat up slowly, his joints feeling tense like he hadn't moved in a while. He tried to swing his legs over the edge of the table he was laying on, but two stronger hands pushed back down on his shoulders, forcing him to stay seated.

"No, Mister West," The chubby doctor chided him, "You are disoriented, and moving so quickly after the simulation will give you motion sickness and a severe headache, like Conner Kent over there," The man pointed another table.

Wally turned to see the clone grabbing at his head, biting his lip from the internal pain.

"Supey?" Wally asked, his brain suddenly clicking, "Conner? You okay?"

Conner flicked a look at Wally, and his eyes were filled with confusion. A nurse was standing over him and offering an Advil, but he was ignoring her completely.

"What's going on?" Wally asked him, but another voice answered.

"We don't know Baywatch," he heard Artemis mumble, "The good doctor here wanted to wait until we were _all_ awake before he'd tell us anything," the girl muttered.

"All..?" Wally began, but as he looked around the room, he saw his bed was the last in a line of medical beds lined up against a wall. Superboy's was next to his, but as his eyes trailed down he saw Artemis, Miss Martian, Robin, Zatana, Aqualad, and Spee-Red Arrow. It took a moment for his mind to register that they were all in their civvies, but when he did he shook himself.

"Guys? Rob? Anyone want to clue me in here?" He faltered, his green eyes bouncing from person to person. No one looked like they had any answers though, except for the doctor who huffed in front of Wally.

"Oh dear," The doctor murmured, "I suppose the simulation _was_ a tad realistic, and the suppression of your real memories was a delicate process, but don't worry they're still intact and should surface within twenty-four hours,"

"What do you mean?" Artemis asked from her own medical bed.

"If I don't get answers soon, I'll find my own," Roy added stubbornly, looking like he wasn't planning on staying very long.

The pudgy man frowned, tapping his chin with a thick index finger, "How do I explain this…Ah," he began, "Your memories should return to you shortly, but for now let me be blunt. As you may or may not remember, you signed up for this. We took teenagers from the surrounding cities, choosing the best candidates for our test,"

Robin looked at him disbelievingly, "Test?" he questioned, his eyes narrowing behind sunglasses, "What kind of test?"

"It was a scientific study, really," The doctor began, "We put teens in a scenario where they would have responsibility, take risks, deal with high stress, develop relationships, bonds, and things of that nature, and then we recorded the effects on their brain and how they would cope with these new situations. The study was supposed to be unaffected by previous relations, so we recruited teens from our neighboring cities that were eligible candidates for such a test. It just happened to be you, and all of you and your guardians signed a consent forms allowing us to subject you all to the simulation."

"What are you saying?" Conner broke in, his cobalt eyes now only shining slits of suspicion.

"That world you were living in was false," The doctor said lightly, "You were never sidekicks, you don't have mentors, you don't have powers, and you aren't a team. In fact, none of you knew each other previously aside from Artemis Crock and Roy Harper. They were both adopted by Oliver Queen and his fiancé, Dinah," The doctor met eyes with each teen.

"Now I know this is a lot to take in, and that this is-"

"Total bull crap?" Roy inserted, "Yeah, I noticed. I'm not buying this."

Wally looked down himself, at his hands. He couldn't vibrate them. _No powers? No way._

Which seemed to Megan's line of think to, because suddenly every head turned when they heard a _thud_ from somewhere behind them. They turned to see the girl picking herself up clumsily.

"I can't fly," Megan announced with a disappointed horror, "I can't connect with you guys telepathically either…" she trailed, her eyes suddenly tearing up.

"Of course you can't – I just explained this. The powers were a part of the simulation," The doctor huffed out tiredly.

Suddenly Wally, who'd been getting ready to stand, just let his knees buclkle.

"So…so _none _of it was real?" he asked in a disbelieving tone.

"Some components were based off your actual life," The chubby man trailed, pushing his glasses further up his face, "But only small fragments. Such as you, for example, Mister West. You are a star track athlete from your school, and considering you had to be a hero, we simply gave you enhanced speed. Artemis Crock and Roy Harper are archers, so we just kept their abilities as they were. Actually, it was quiet interesting to see how powers effected group dynamic and moral. Speaking of which, Richard Grayson is a male gymnast, and actually did help out a woman with a mugging when he was twelve or so. His parents are very proud of this,"

"_Parents?" _Robin squeaked out, his voice suddenly rough and scratchy, "As in, _present tense_?"

"Ah yes," The doctor smiled, "That was another component to the test, to see if different pasts effected your ability to perform. Your parents are very much alive, Mr. Grayson."

Robin suddenly got very quiet, his mouth clamoing shut as his thoughts pulled into over drive. His parents. They were alive…But then…?

"What about Batman?" The teen asked, "What about him?"

"Ah, your mentors. No, there is no Batman; or Flash, or Aquaman, Or Martian Manhunter, or Green Arrow, or anyone else, though I have a suspicion that your minds modeled your mentors off of the people closest to you."

"Wait just a second…" Artemis began, but the doctor cut her off.

"You all functioned and responded wonderfully, and now the test is over. You may collect your things outside the lab. If you are having any problems with adjusting or experiencing any severe headaches or memory lapses, come back and we'll give you a check up. Thank you for your time. You're free to go. If you have any questions, here is the clipboard with all your personal information on it. It should answer all your questions and jog a few memories even. Now, I have a lot of business to attend to. Forgive me, but I must go," The doctor finished, and abruptly left, his nurse tagging along with him, leaving right after he had handed the clipboard to Roy.

Then the teens were alone in the med room.

Silence choked the room, the air tense and fragile. No one spoke for a while, until Artemis crossed her arms defiantly.

"No way I dreamed my life up," Artemis declared.

Robin bit his lip, "Roy, what does the clipboard have in it?"

The elder archer was flipping through the papers, skimming each page briefly.

"It's about us…Well, if what Tubs said was true, it's about us," He answered.

Suddenly it seemed all the teens were around Roy, peering over his shoulder as they eyed the files.

"Richard 'Dick' Grayson was an honor-roll student from Gotham High. He'd originally grown up in the circus, but his family had finally settled into Gotham with the step-brother of John Grayson (Rob's father), Bruce Wayne. Bruce Wayne wasn't rich, either. They are just a middle class family living in a large city that had a high-but-manageable crime rate," Roy summarized quickly, not wanting to study Rob's face too hard.

"Conner Kent lived with his mother, Louis Kent, and his father in Metropolis. According to the file, Clark Kent was an in-out parent and was reportedly distant from Conner, hardly spending a lot of time with the family. His work with the _Daily Planet _as a reporter kept Clark busy too," Conner just looked away as Roy continued on.

"Artemis Crock was living with Oliver Queen to escape from her abusive father and dysfunctional family. She wasn't the first child Oliver Queen had taken in either, as he had adopted Roy Harper after his family was killed in a car crash," Roy frowned, saying nothing. Niether archer commented on the description and Roy moved on.

"Megan Morse lives with her single uncle in an apartment outside of Nevada. She's lived a pretty quiet life, and there wasn't much to say about her aside from maintaining high grades and volunteering for many organizations," He flicked a look at the Martian girl, still having her Caucasian appearance surprise him instead of her green skin.

"Kaldur Gilmore lives in a small town near Star City called Marsh Springs and attends a High school. He's expecting a scholarship from some college based on his grades, but also flying in on the swim team."

"Zatana Mazar lives with her father, Zatara Mazar. They operate a traveling magic show," Roy flicked a glance at the magician. Her eyes were big and sad, but a thin line of hope played in her eyes. If this had all been fake, her father must still be with her.

"Wally West was living with his uncle, Barry Allen, and his aunt, Iris Allen. He'd been taken in when authorities had found out and Wally had been being abused. Ever since then he's been living with in Central."

"But, but, I _just _had dinner with my parents!" Wally objected.

Roy looked up from the clipboard, "I know. In the simulation, you did."

Robin's fingers ran through his raven tinted hair, "You think this is real?"

"Well," Roy said, gesturing to the teens around him, "None of them have powers, and they can't fake that,"

"That's it?" Artemis replied deadpan.

"Give me another reason and prove me wrong, because I don't want to _live_ with you," Roy fired back.

Aquald coughed, drawing attention towards himself, "My gills, my fins, the webbing on my fingers – they are gone." The Atlantean stated, and then he rubbed his arm across the tattoo that lided down his bicep and wrapped around his forearm, "These are the only things left," he avowed almost sadly.

Zatana looked up at all of them, "Guys...I don't think they're making this up," she whispered.

"But...but Rob is my best friend! No way we've never met before," Wally began, "And that was way too real to be fake," his eyes flew over everyone, begging for support, but his faith was shaken.

"Rob, remember Batman? He can't be fake – no one _dreams_ a Bat-Glare! And all our missions, RT, Black Canary…" He started listing, his voice falling as he continued, "And...Flash isn't fake,"

"According to the doctor, our mentors were just our minds basing them off people we know and trust," Artemis replied in an unsure voice, "So it's possible…"

Wally hung his head in defeat.

"None of that was real?" he asked quietly.

Suddenly the eight teens were wrapped in silence.

They would have stayed that way longer if a nurse hadn't come in.

"Um, I know this has been a long, stressful, disorienting day, but we need to clear out this room. Don't worry, your families are waiting outside," The nurse smiled brightly, then opened the doors for the teens and gestured for them to walk outside, "Thank you so much. And don't worry – you can all keep in touch," she smiled.

The team – or were they that? – glanced at eachother.

"What I wouldn't do for a mind-link right now," Wally mumbled, but no one responded.

Instead, they all filed out the door, not sure what to expect anymore.

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><p>Author's Note: I am alive! I'm not sure how often I can update this, though I'd love to get in a post tomorrow if I can. I have the outline worked out, just have to get this all down. Usually I'd wait, but this has been bugging me, so I will post it now to keep my sanity. Now that <em>that's <em>over with, please review. It's good motivation And you're right, that request was in no way dignified. :D Love me anyway.


	2. Authenticity

"_Do not spoil what you have with what you have not; remember that what you have now was once among the things you hoped for"_

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><p><strong>Chapter Two: Authenticity <strong>

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><p>The nurse ushered the group through the narrow hallways, steering them up and down a few narrow turns before she sidestepped them to until she was at the front of the line. She paused momentarily, flashing the teens a reassuring grin. The smile was short-lived as a more professional calm washed down her features and she opened the door.<p>

"Thank you for your time. Your families are trough here," She gestured outside, and numbly the Team slowly exited the hall.

Robin was the first to step out, gliding into the room cautiously. He'd never felt so unsure, not even when tagging along the darkened streets of Gotham. At least there he knew what he was walking into. This…whatever is was…reality, he supposed, was a foreign concept. He could hardly process the facts that the files had shoved down his throat, much less the prospect of-of his parents being alive.

The team huddled carefully into the space.

It was a typical waiting room setting. White-wash trim bordered the blue-gray walls, and spotless tiles clicked beneath their shoes. A few posters graced the walls, revealing peaceful and inspirational scenes, like a waterfall and an island. The normalcy of the room was nearly claustrophobic.

"Wait here, and I'll go get your guardians," The nurse said from behind them, and they hardly had the chance to look back at her before the door swished closed behind her.

Wally turned back and faced the group.

Robin was staring around, his face still hidden away by sunglasses. His hands were tucked away into his denim pockets, his head kind of lowered as though the gleaming tiles beneath him held the secrets of the earth. Wally couldn't remember the teen ever looking out of place – until now, anyway.

Next to him, Zatana was just sort of…there. One hand was tucked away, wrapped carefully around her shoulder, while the other played with a thick strand of her raven-colored hair. Her eyes darted around the room with interest, but Wally got the sense she wasn't really seeing anything.

Artemis had opted to take a seat in one of the cushioned chairs, her steel gray eyes fastened on the door. Their steely tint seemed to dare anyone to step through the door without her permission or without explanation. Her pose seemed to deflate slightly a second later though, when her watchful gaze met Wally's and she look away, her arms pulling up as she crossed them over her chest.

Megan and Conner were standing together, though Wally supposed it was more out of habit than anything else. They'd acted as each other's shields for so long (or had it been?), that the urge to stand together and support each other had become instinctual. The comforting hand that Conner offered the now peach-skinned girl with bright orange freckles was just as much an anchor for him as it was for her. Her acceptance of it and allowing her to draw her in and bury her head in his chest was just as much security as it was his.

Roy didn't anything but annoyed, his piercing gaze hitting everything with defiance as sharp as an arrow. But underneath it all, to the speedster's horror, tinges of acceptance lurked beneath his expression. How someone as usually questioning as Roy could accept that their life was a lie crushed Wally. After all, if Roy believed, there was at _least_ the possibility that it'd been a lie. A hallucination brought on by science. And if it was, what happened now?

Aqualad – Kaldur, stood aside, part of the group and yet so detached. His fog-colored eyes trailed up and down his arms, tracing the eel tattoos that served as his only foundation for his old appearance. Wally couldn't imagine having lost whole parts of your body, and he felt sympathy crawl into his chest when the darker skinned teen rubbed his hand across his neck, lingering in the place where gills had once been, with fingers that had once had webbing. Or had they?

Wally suddenly felt claustrophobic. The air was hot, clammy, and all too thin. He ran his hands through his hair.

"Guys," Wally tried, glancing at all of them, but when their heads turned in his direction, his voice died. He couldn't grapple with trying to put his emotions into words. He couldn't form the right words of subtle disbelief and horrifying realization that the more he thought about it, the more possible it all became.

"I don't want to believe it either," Robin whispered.

Wally looked down. He knew about Robin's…Dick Grayson's past. The past he'd believed in the simulation, anyway. The one where his parents were dead. The one where he'd cried out as he watched their bodies collide with an unforgiving floor. The teen had just only begun to accept his parent's death, this being the first year where he hadn't hidden away from life on the day of his parent's anniversary of death. This…this uprooted that. Like tearing off an old scar.

"Rob…" Wally murmured, trying to offer his understanding and regret into the tone. But once again words failed him and silence took over.

However, it wasn't for long.

"You guys, if this _is_ real," Megan squeaked in a hushed voice, "We _need_ to keep in touch. Even if that was only a test, I know you guys are still my best friends," she hugged Conner tightly, waiting for everyone's response.

"Of course we're sticking together," Wally seconded immediately, and the rest of the team nodded, even Roy, though he only tipped his head down slightly. An acknowledgment.

Before anymore could be said, though, the doorknob made a snapping sound, and a short-lived speak pounced through the room and drew attention towards itself. The door swung open, and a horde of people calmly stepped in. Each person was eerily familiar, and each had a smile on their face.

"Dick!" A woman cried out from the crowd. She was a fairly tall woman, with curly dirty blonde hair she had fashioned into a ponytail behind her. She had laughing eyes that held a warmth in their big brown appearance. A man was beside her, a strong but trim body. His face was crinkled with laugh-lines and his hair was jet-black, only a little gray flecks passing subtly through the tresses. He had striking blue eyes, the kind that seemed to glow.

"_Mom?_ _Dad?"_ Robin murmured, but he was caught off guard as the women ran up to him, wrapping the small but sturdy boy up in her arms, pressing him into her as her hand ran loving through her son's hair.

"Oh, how'd it go? Did you like being a superhero?" His mother asked lovingly, her smile like penetrating the room like a thousand-watt light bulb. Her tone was filled with excitement, and her husband chuckled lightly.

"Hon, let the boy breathe. Look at him – he's pale as a sheet," The man joked happily, slapping his son on the back.

Robin's face had drained of color. The last time he'd seen his parents…he'd been watching them drop through the air, watching their eyes. Seeing their bodies crumple lifelessly against the ground. He'd watched them die, their expression dull, their mangled bodies go limp on the ground.

And now, _they were here_. They were _here_. Hugging and laughing like they had in his memories, like _nothing_ had happened. Maybe…maybe nothing had.

Robin didn't think, but let his previously rigid frame relax into his mother's hug.

"I missed you guys," the boy murmured, and a tear slid down his cheek as he wrapped his arms around the two, "I missed you _so_ much."

The whole team watched the scene unfold, and though only Wally knew the full effect of what was going on, there was a sense that they were watching something sacred, not meant for their eyes. They remembered Robin questioning his parents' life when the doctor had mentioned them. It clicked, and everyone watched, not sure what emotion they were experiencing, but positive that whatever it was, it was stronger than any known before.

Suddenly Wally was broken from the scene, feeling his body being jerked backwards into a playful headlock.

"Yeah, how was it?" he heard Barry's voice ask happily, "Did you save anyone?"

Wally's head whipped back instantly, his eyes catching hold of Barry.

"Uncle B?" Wally questioned, his eyes wide and green. His uncle didn't look like he'd changed at all. Aunt Iris was standing behind him, and she didn't look any different either, "Aunt Iris?"

"You okay sweetie?" Aunt Iris asked, "You were in there for an awfully long time. Nearly twenty-four hours!" his aunt exclaimed.

"_A day_?" Wally repeated in shock, "It…It had to be longer than just a day!"

Barry whistled, "Phew, technology today, huh? But I'll bet you're glad you don't have school for the rest of the week for recovery time, right?"

Wally bit his lip, "That sounds fantastic, but I'll have to as Dad. He had something planned this weekend. Mom's birthday, remember?"

Iris and Barry froze, exchanging looks.

"Wally, honey?" Iris asked, her voice suddenly gentle, "The doctors told me about your life in their…Those weren't your parents…"

Wally's eyes grew wide, remembering what his file had said. His parents here were abusive.

Artemis was about to come to the redhead's defense, seeing his discomfort, but she was stopped by a similar embrace as she heard Ollie's voice resound heartily through the room.

"No don't think you can just sulk over here. Roy got his hug, and goshed darn if I'm not going to make this a Hallmark moment," Ollie smirked, and Artemis felt his two arms constrict her into a large hug. She tilted her gaze up to Ollie, noting his smile that indicated he was fairly pleased with himself. Some things never changed.

Thankfully, Artemis saw Black Canary come to her rescue and lightly slap Ollie across the arm, "Stop it, Oliver," she scolded, "You'll embarrass her in front of her knew friends!"

"Thanks, Canary," Artemis muttered happily when Ollie released her and she went to stand by Roy.

"Canary?" The blonde asked in confusion, "Usually you call me Dinah,"

Artemis felt her cheeks flush and she glanced down.

"Right, whatever." She murmured. It shocked her when Roy put a hand on her shoulder. It was pretty apathetic, but it still surprised her.

Looking at Aqualad's awkward confrontation with his Uncle Orin, Conner tilted his head down. Te tile floor glanced back up at him, and Conner frowned until he saw two pairs of purple shoes click up to him.

"Conner!" A woman called happily, giving him a quick hug before returning to what she'd been saying, "Sorry your father couldn't make it. But you know how he is with his work," she paused, sighing, "That man is a workaholic." She stated firmly, flipping a lock of black hair behind her shoulder.

Conner eyed her. She stood up all the way to just beyond the tip of her chin. She was dressed in a professional long sleeved suit, though a matching tan pencil skirt replaced slacks. Her eyes were bright, and even though they darted up and down between Conner and her phone, when she looked at him, she actually _looked_ at him. He remembered something about a Lois from his file. This woman…was his mother.

Conner didn't know what to say. Robin had gone right ahead and called his mother 'Mom', but that didn't feel appropriate with this stranger.

"Um," he trailed, and Lois met his gaze.

"The doctors said you would be disoriented, I understand, sweetie. But we'll take you home and you can get back on your feet. Maybe your father can take a brake and come visit you," She commented happily.

Conner said nothing but looked away over his shoulder. He caught the eyes of Zatana, but she quickly diverted attention away from him, her eyes focusing on a man that looked exactly like Zatara.

He was exactly as he remembered her, his face stern but worn with years of smile lines. His eyes caught hold of her, and his mouth began to open in greeting. However, she beat him to it.

Before he could force words through his mouth, Zatana lunged at him, wrapping her father in a firm hug, her hands digging into the material and pulling him closer. She buried her head into his chest, grateful that a brief spill of tears simply leaked into his suit.

"Well this is certainly a nice hello," Giovanni stroked his hand down his daughter's hair, his voice warm though confused by her sudden burst of emotion.

Zatana didn't comment on the bewilderment in her father's tone, but only hugged him tighter, her voice fragile when she peered up at him, "I thought I would never see you again," she murmured, digging herself back into his embrace.

Giovanni faltered but replied calmly, "I will always be with you," he promised.

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><p>Word Count: 2,184<p>

Author's Note: Sorry this took so long to get out – I'm on vacation currently, so I won't be updating with regularity for a while. But I promise I will as soon as I can. Next chapter is when we get to see more of their actual lives. Also, as pointed out by one of my viewers, the names were weird. In this story Zatana's dad is Giovanni Zatara (ignore first chapter until I can edit; thanks!). Conner's mother is Lois Lane, but Lois Kent (because she is married to Clark Kent). Just needed to clear that up! :D Thank you for ALL THE REVIEWS! That genuinely made my day! Also, tons of you gave me Alfred's cookies. I'm stuffed. And addicted. Anyone got his number? Or willing to send a few more? Also, thank you for the complements for originality. However, this is a fill for nancydrewgirl, who prompted this :)

Author's Mailbag:

Foubritt: Hey! You are my first reviewer! I am sending you an invisible, untouchable, brand new Batmobile. X) But seriously, thank you so much for your review! LOL, and don't you hate dreams like that? Or love them…I suppose it depends.

OneLifeOneLoveOnceChance: First off, I love your name. Second, thank you! Also, I am a huge fan of Spitfire, which tends to show in my writing. (:

Dextra2: Thanks!

Anon: Yeah, what can I say? I saw this prompt and my plot bunnies went crazy. Geez, I should own a farm and let my bunnies roam free.

Lilmissfashionista: EEE! I've missed you! And of course you almost did – great minds think alike. Thank you for the compliments!

Vesta Dragon: Aww, thank you so much! You are amazingly kind (:

DragonFairy16: I hope it lives up to your expectations. Thanks!

xAsClicheAsItCanBe: Oh, I have a bit planned for this…Pay attention to the quotes before the chapters. Some of them might be holding hints. Maybe about the chapter, maybe about the story.

NancyDrewGirl: You prompted this on The YJ Meme? Well, honestly, I sincerely hope I do this right for you! This is a very good prompt and the idea wouldn't leave me alone. Thank you for giving me this idea! I addressed your critiques in the Author's Note. Tell me what you think please!

Mixxi: My lips are sealed, but my story…is, well, an open book.

Adoglover: Oh, how I LOVE to see familiar faces! Your compliments mean so much to me, but you knew that! I can't wait to write all of this, and thank you so so so much for your review! High fives!

KaliAnn: Speaking of familiar faces, how are you? Haven't seen you since my last story! Thanks for your review!

BookCrazyGal: LOL, I love Rage Comics. Me gusta your review as well, LOL. And thank you – I'm so glad you like my writing!

TheL3monTart: I updated as soon as I could, as I'll always do! LOL, I love how sympathetic you are to the characters! I like your line of thinking. (:

Ghostdog401: HEY! What's up with you? I haven't seen from you in….FOREVER. (:

Argent98: OMIGOSH, thank you!

CelestialStaryNight: Why, thank you! Truly, your review made me smile!

RowanFall: HEY STRANGER! LOL, I AM ALIVE! It's good to be back and seeing from you guys! And how horrible! By-the-by is….It just IS, you know? Glad you liked Roy's reaction! Never written for him before so, good to know you liked it! And I can't tell anymore than that. I promise these chapters will get more exciting after this – Just needed introductory kind of stuff (: By the by, I plan on playing up those upsides.

DayDreamingOfYOu: Dude! Haven't seen you in ever! I'm glad you're so excited for this story! And you're so right, he does tend to get attached. Is it wrong I laughed when I read that? LOL, thanks for your comment!

Kandy Kaylor: Dude, that's how I feel when I _get up_. Ugh, just crazy! I'm so flattered you liked this! Good to see from you again!


	3. Shattered

"_For everything you have missed, there is something you have gained, and for everything you gain, there is something you lose,"_

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><p><strong>Chapter 3: Shattered<strong>

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><p>Wally stared at the laptop's screen, his green eyes wide with disbelief. But…but it was <em>all<em> right there.

The police record for his parents.

There were even pictures – Wally recognized himself in a photo, his body splattered in painful shades of darkened blue and tender purple, one bruise of his young face a distinct color of greenish-yellow enveloped in dabs of black.

The photo was taken the night the neighbors had reported screaming and yelling, and sounds of shattering glass pounding against the walls – when police arrived on the scene they'd found liquor bottle shards littered _everywhere_ in the house.

The other two photos were of his parents.

His dad, his brown hair greasy and messily sticking up in places, an angry glint to his face. Wally flinched at the expression of hatred and unfocused anger darting through his features, and he quickly scrolled down to the last photo.

His mother, who he remembered as a stable and respectable woman, had mussed and frizzled orange hair, her eyes sunken from the lack of sleep and the abundance of alcohol pulsing through her system, even her skin stained with cigarette burns.

Wally quickly closed the tab, his breathing suddenly coming in tight, limited, breaths.

Those weren't his parents…they _couldn't_ have been.

Sure, his dad was a jerk from time to time, but more in the clean-your-room-again way, not the abusive way. His father wasn't cruel, or violent. And his mother had given up smoking _forever _ago, and she'd never smoked a lot to begin with, much less than…whatever that woman in the photo did. _That imposter_.

Wally pushed the laptop away, standing up from his desk and walking out of the room. He just needed to get away from everything for a second. He just needed air. He needed to get away from that laptop, distance himself from those photos, that report, the fact that he wasn't _anything _anymore. He wasn't a hero. He wasn't even _normal_.

As he turned the corner into the kitchen, he ran both of his hands through his hair, feeling mentally drained. It was so strange, in the mood to be alone, but really feeling like he needed to talk to someone. But not…but not anyone in the real world. He needed Robin, or Batman, or Roy – Artemis even; but they'd all gone home, too. They'd gone back to reality. And who were they, really, if they weren't the people he knew? Who would he even be talking to?

He didn't expect to see Iris or Barry waiting at the kitchen table when he instinctually headed for the fridge. He didn't expect their worried faces.

"Wally? Sweety?" Iris called from her seat at the table, "Is everything okay?" Then her face faltered and she glanced at Wally apologetically, greeting his blank look with understanding, "Well, of course it's not _okay_, but…"

"I can't believe the doctors would tamper with something like that…they didn't mention that in the papers we signed. Well, emotional stress was mentioned, but…" Barry added, and then shot Wally a cautious glance.

"We're sorry about your parents, Sport," Barry said, and Iris nodded.

Wally felt his throat constrict. He wanted them to stop talking, because the more they talked about, the more and more real it became. The more he had to accept it.

"I-I don't want to talk about this," Wally puffed out, his eyes flicking over to the exit.

Iris caught the anxious glance and her gaze softened.

"Wally…talking about it will make it better," Iris promised, "Sit down, it's okay," she motioned over to the table.

Wally sighed in defeat, grabbing the chair next to Barry.

"I read the police reports. And I saw the photos," Wally murmured after he'd sat down.

Barry's eyes widened, "Wally, that was under my password. How'd you get into my files?"

"It's the same as it was in the simulation," Wally muttered, "Rob hacked it...or…I don't know."

"Rob?" Barry's face scrunched in confusion, "You mean that Richard kid?"

Wally nodded numbly, but his brain lurched at Barry's description. _That Richard kid._ He wasn't anything more than that now, was he? He was _just _"That Richard kid", from the simulation. Just some no-name teen selected at random for a test that had happened to have Wally in it. There was no Robin. There was no Kid Flash. There was no Team. There was no _anything_.

"Yeah, the Richard kid," Wally affirmed, ignoring the lump in his throat.

"I see," Barry sent his nephew a comforting glance, "You know, you guys are still friends. The test mentally linked all of you, right? Well, that's still Richard's-"

"Call him Dick," Wally interrupted quietly.

"It's still Dick you met in there," Barry pointed out, "Gotham's only a few hours away if you'd like to keep in touch with him,"

Wally looked up at his uncle. He was still Barry, Wally noticed. He was still his uncle. But was that enough? Barry had always been Wally's second father, really, no matter what reality Wally lived in. But…but was Barry his father? Aunt Iris? Was she his mother? Could they replace, even bridge, a gap he couldn't remember?

"Yeah, I'd like that," Wally nodded.

Barry smiled, ruffling Wally's tresses with his hand.

"So, I noticed you were heading for the fridge. You hungry?" he asked, "Iris has cookies in the oven, too. And there's leftover chili in the fridge, I think…" Barry trailed, glancing for reassurance at Iris, who nodded.

Wally felt his stomach flip.

Cookies, like the kind Megan had cooked…or at least tried to – she'd been getting better. And chili, like Green Arrow had taught Artemis to make that day at the Mountain.

And suddenly Wally realized something.

"I'm not hungry," the freckled teen murmured.

Barry didn't even flinch, bat an eye, _anything_, "Well that's fine. Want to catch a movie?"

Wally looked at his uncle, the short cropped blonde hair and bright blue eyes. He hadn't changed at all. He was just his uncle, trying so hard to make everything work, him and Iris trying to make his life better. They still cared about him, and as corny as it was, it sent a warm stab through him. His thoughts then lingered into a startling revelation – he wasn't a speedster anymore. Which, he'd known…but the full effect of it was starting to hit him. No, he wouldn't be a hero…but he felt _normal_. His metabolism wasn't stubbornly scolding him for not eating enough, his stomach wasn't crying out in pain, and time was moving right again. As a speedster, everything moved slow. And now…he felt like he had reset his internal clock – the seconds weren't drenching away into agonizing lifetimes, the minutes weren't sluggishly passing him by – everything was working correctly. He felt like he had a grip on life like he hadn't since his powers.

Maybe this wasn't so bad. Far from perfect…but he could give it a shot.

Wally sent his uncle a weak smile before letting it become stronger, "Sure, sounds nice."

* * *

><p>Roy and Artemis sat across the table from Ollie and Dinah.<p>

Ollie was digging into a huge bowl of chili, his face eccentric with delight. Dinah herself was sending her husband awkward smiles, somewhat intimidated by his gusto for the dish. However, she gently took a bite or two before shifting her gaze over to her two adopted children.

Artemis was half-heartedly poking around her bowl, wisely avoiding the extremely large beans, chunks of seasoned meat, and onion – basically just swirling the whole mesh round and around her bow with the tip of her spoon. Her eyes were half-lidded, her face scrunched because her other hand was being employed as a support beam connecting to her cheek. Her gaze rested inside her bowl, watching the contents warily, her mind clearly in other places.

When Dinah shot a glance over at Roy, she was met with his piercing eyes. They were staring her down, accepting but wary. When he saw she was looking at him, he picked up his spoon and took a big bite of chili, swallowing the stew in a heaping bite, hardly flinching as the food made its way down his throat. Then he leaned back in his chair, waiting. She didn't know for what, but she got the sense he was waiting for something. For anything, maybe.

"So…the simulation. How'd that go?" The blonde asked pointing her spoon at the two teens before her.

"It was so real," Artemis piped up, her lax expression suddenly becoming sharp as her face darted up to meet Dinah's eyes, "Hard to believe it wasn't, I guess,"

Roy nodded stiffly, his expression becoming hard to read, "It was fine," he answered the original question, stuffing another bite of chili into his mouth; He was much more comfortable in an awkward silence than anyone in the room, save Ollie who didn't seem to notice when he was in one or not.

"That's fantastic!" The man replied heartily through a mouth full of food, smiling at his two adopted children, "What's it like? Being a hero?"

Artemis looked down back at her food, spinning her spoon around in it again, "It's really fun." She answered bluntly, and when she looked to Roy for his description, he simply shrugged.

"It wasn't that different from our real lives. I mean, we're archers, right?" Roy questioned.

"Yes," Dinah responded, a little pride showing through her eyes, "You two…there's not even a competition when you two participate in contests. The only time you even seem to struggle is when you're trying to out-do each other. Though, how could you not be good? Ollie trained you both himself," she sent Ollie a smirk, who just nodded and smiled on back, playfully shrugging.

Artemis looked at the table slowly, glancing at the people who surrounded her. Her heart sank a few leagues in her chest as she realized that she was, once again, starting completely over. It was painfully obvious – another make-believe family. Her real one was just as messed up as the simulation – an abusive dad and a way-ward sister. She thought back to the nights of scampering into the tiny apartment she shared with her mother, her face still partially contained by her costume and the rest of her body enveloped in green – her mother wasn't even real. Artemis's throat constricted. She'd thought she's finally found a home with the team and Ollie, but even that hadn't lasted – it hadn't even been real. So here she was, _again_, pretending.

Artemis stood up suddenly, her expression hardened.

"I'm going to bed," she mumbled, tossing a napkin onto the mahogany and leaving the rest of her adopted family in a silent wake.

When she had left, Dinah shot a look at Roy.

"Was it something I said?"

Roy seemed to mull it over briefly, "No, it's something you didn't." he decided, and then he shrugged, "But between you and me, there's not much left to say," then he got up, "I'm going to bed. Night."

Roy figured himself to be a realist – so far away from optimism it burned, but not entirely pessimistic enough to be fancied a cynic. He took things for what they were – no amount of wishing could change what they had lost.

Roy shoved glance back towards Ollie and Dinah.

Then again, no amount of wishing could change what they had gained – a real family was seldom found in life, and he considered this an opportunity.

Roy disappeared down the hallway, and Dinah turned to Ollie with a questioning gaze.

"Kids," Ollie said simply in explanation as he shrugged, before taking the edge of his spoon and taping her bowl, "You going to finish that?"

* * *

><p>Author's Note: Okay, I'm shooting for Robin and Zatara next, possibly a bit of Aqualad. After that, Conner and Megan (and Aqualad if I don't manage to finish him before). Whoa, I'm thrilled! After that…well, can't give away everything. Just a quick mega-thank-you of unimaginable proportions to my repliers!<p>

Author's Mailbag:

Celestialstarrynight: OMG – ALL THE COOKIES! And not just any cookies…_Alfred's_ cookies. And because of this…yes, Alfred may be in the story. Definitely! LOL!

xAsClicheAsItCanbe: I will just say it – I love writing Ollie and Artemis together. For the same reasons that I love writing her and Wally as a couple – they bicker because they care. That, and Ollie is pretty much the cool uncle.

LyndseyRyder12: Hello there, girl! Feels like it's been an eternity! Thanks for the review!

Myself and Wolf: Preferably cheering with delight, LOL! Seriously, thanks and I hope you enjoyed this update! :D

Mixxi: Hmm…We shall see (insert impressive evil laugh here)! Or will we? Actually…Wait, my lips are sealed. XD

Foubritt: I get lazy too, no prob! And…OMG, I have created a hero who drives an invisible, untouchable, Batmobile and defends the inner reaches of a low crime-rate area! Not to mention has an amazing dialogue and tackle. And yes – because of the Bat on top, I will definitely update.

KaliAnn: Sweet! Glad to know it's all good! And thank you so much! :D

RoXas706: Whoa – lots of energy going on there – I like it! Enthusiasm deserves a high five! *high fives* Hope you like this update just as much!

Eternal Mist: Thank you!

Vesta Dragon: Why do I love Robin so much? Why is he so fun to write for? And thanks! Glad you liked his part! We'll see more of him next chapter!

Dextra2: COOKIES. Thee. Tubs. Filled. Of. COOKIES. _Alfred's cookies._ …It's just so beautiful.

Ghostgod401: I will update Sleep Running eventually – it's just writing it and I've been so busy…UGH. But it's on my To-Do List! I promise! And I'll check my inbox for your story just as soon as I post this!

LilMissFashionista: If you are a horrible person for loving to read Robin!Angst and Wally!Whumpage. I am even worse because I write it. But (leans back like Wally) I'm comfortable with that. I should probably see Inception – I haven't gotten the chance yet. BUT I REALLY WANT TO. And thanks!

TheL3MonTart: It's cool – everyone will have different and mixed reactions, because everyone has gained and lost different things. Thanks!

S. S. Pie: SOMEONE SAW IT! Yes – that was intentional. I purposely swapped their back stories, and you caught it! Glad I've got your interest! And, admittedly, I will focus the most on my favorites – Wally, Robin, Artemis, and so forth; but no one will be neglected. Still, props for spotting my switch!

LadyParabellum: I had a wonderful time on my vacation, thank you! I hope you continue to enjoy this! Love to see reviews like that!

Jedi-Padawan14: Thanks for your comment – I wonder if your right. Well, _I_ don't…But, I feel your pain.

Digitalfagirl15: Wow! This is really thought out…I love it when people really think about the implications of everything, _and_ the impact on the characters! And, you called my story beautiful! Now if that didn't make my day, I'd be crazy! Thank you!

Anbu Fox: Oh, yeah! Can't wait to write more!

Kandy Kaylor: I know! That'd be STRESS – I can't even imagine!

OneLifeOneLoveOnceChance: Legitimately – thank you! That's one of the nicest reviews I've gotten; no one's ever called my writing authentic before! Thank you! And cool; I'll be on the lookout for your signature if you decide to change again! THANKS!

CHiKa-RoXy: Best-Selling Author material? Whoa. Seriously – thank you. That means a lot. And is that sign at the end a butterfly? 'Cuz I love it!

EvrAnge: COOL; Thanks!

RowanFall: I've gotten so many compliments – and then I get to yours: I'M ONE OF YOUR FAVES! Well, you are absolutely one of my favorite reviewers! *virtual hug of excitement* And thanks for the quote compliment – every quote will relate to the chapter or the story at large. And by the by; I know right? Twenty-Four hours is pretty racking when you think about it!

Adoglover5: EEE! I love that you love my stories because I fangirl for every single one of yours. It's almost unhealthy. Hope you liked the Wally angst! And also, no. In this reality, there are absolutely no heroes.

DayDreamingofYou: Just sit tight until the next chapter *evil grin* And man, if I were Dick I would have cried too. And hmm…good question! Actually, good _questions._


	4. Thankful

"_It doesn't matter if the glass is half empty or half full. Be thankful that you have a glass and there's something in it."_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Four: Thankful<strong>

* * *

><p><em>Vivid lights and festive colors bounced around the circus Big Top, red and white stripes pooling down the canvas material in straight bright lines. Streamers of all colors hung above a roaring audience that cheered in excitement and delight for the final act, their faces lit with spotlights that were darting across the spectators and filling the purposefully dimmed space that had been darkened for the last performance of the night.<em>

_Suddenly, as three individuals came into the light from atop the high wire's landing, a hush lulled over the crowd. Suppressed excitement and thrill drew every audience member, young and old, to the edge of their seats. The three family members waved from atop their precarious perch, bright smiles and welcoming bows even though they had just begun to ready the act. A man and a woman, their hands clasped together to pull each other close, used their free hand to each touch the shoulder of their son, a proud boy that had aged eight years (and would proudly tell everyone he was close to being nine). When they had stopped acknowledging the cheers and whistles, the claps and squeals, of the audience, the mother and the father withdraw from each other's hold, and the elder man quickly tousled his son's mop of black hair. Bright blue eyes sparkled with amusement, shooting an apologetic at the disapproval in his mother's eyes – she'd worked at keeping his hair done for the act. But instead of the dissatisfaction lingering, the woman simply shook her head playfully and then turned to face the high wire. _

_The man jumped from the podium and expertly tightened his hold on an awaiting bar hanging from the cables. Gracefully swinging his body forwards, he let go and spiraled through the air until he used his legs to grab the next bar and rock himself back to catch the bar he'd just leapt from with his legs again. Arching his back forward and twisting up swiftly, he reached out and caught his wife, Mary, who landed elegantly in his grasp, her fingers intertwined with his._

_The Grayson's seemed to fly, performing a duet in the air with only sheer skill to keep them in the sky. Richard watched from his place, silently but happily waiting and counting down until the duo part of the act would end and allow him in to act as a third. However, he would admit to himself that he loved his parents, and loved to watch them make the sky their home. To make themselves weightless and soar through the air – birds without wings that still managed to climb the sky._

_The act continued, poetry in motion, but suddenly unwelcome anxiety prickled through and down Dick's neck – a burning sensation that boiled with unease and sent his hairs to stand in attention._

_That's when he heard it – the soft creaking noises of metal sliding up and away from metal. The subtle chink of the hooks loosening of the very wires holding his parents in the air._

_All too fast and yet all too slow, Richard fell to his knees, jolting out his arm into the empty air waiting for both of them to take it, just in time to see the cables unhook. Just in time for crystal blue eyes to form watery tears as he watched his parents – the same people who had so many times before denied gravity any hold on them – plummet to ground._

_Two wingless birds torn from the sky, and looking at him, pleading for him to never let go - to never forget._

_The realization in his father's eyes as the cable went slack beneath his weight. The look of horror in his mother's usually beautiful expression when air began to rush up to greet her. The perfect timing as both of them glanced his way with looks that tried to cram in all the words they'd never get to say. _

_It would never be enough._

_Because they were falling, falling, falling, and the ground was approaching fast._

_He closed his eyes, but not before he saw them hit. Not before he watched the bodies crumple. Not before he lost is entire family in front of his very eyes. No, no…no._

_The world stopped at that moment. He didn't move. He just laid there, his head lying on his tucked in knees, his hands lost in the forest of his black hair as his fingers tightened around the strands, feeling the warm and salty tears slip down his face._

_He didn't even notice it when someone came and got him down. He didn't really make a note of it when he was forced back into his parents' trailer to remove his stuff._

_Everything just happened; no life was behind it anymore._

_For the first two days, he told himself what to do, hoping that simple instruction could take the place of thinking – whenever he thought he could invasion his parents. Their faces. Their lifeless, mangled, bodies their dull eyes that looked at him unblinkingly. The hushed crowd staring with horrified masks of shock at what had once been his family._

"Dick!"

Robin bolted up in bed, his half-awake mind flinching, his chest heaving, and he found himself unconsciously wiping away at steamy tears that seemed to sear his face. The young teen looked around anxiously, still trying to force the world into focus when he felt two arms sling themselves around him and force him to look up.

Worried brown eyes with a troubled tint were looking down on him, and his mother was brushing the hair out of his face, searching his expression. Her hair was tucked into a quick pony-tail, her slender frame surrounded in pajamas that were just a size or so too big.

Behind her shoulder, he caught the sight of his father. His square jaw was set, his muscles tensed and flexed with concern. He was peering down at Richard, letting emotions run free on his open face.

Robin tried to shove air back into himself, and though he could feel the flush in his cheeks, he was trying to force his face back to a natural color, his hands sweeping away at stray tears as he tried to suck in even breaths. Feeling the dream slink away as his mind cleared, Robin allowed himself to relax into his mother's embrace. He innately felt lighter, and he returned her hug, taking in her scent. The fact she was here.

"Honey, honey," Mary Grayson cooed softly, noting her son was calming down, "Shh, it was only a dream," she whispered, drawing Robin up into an hold that linked not only her and the boy together, but John Grayson as well as the man bent over and laced his strong arms over his family.

Robin shuddered in the midst of the warm touches, trying to rid himself of the images of his dream.

"I-I…" Robin stuttered before regaining his senses, and simply shrugging, not knowing what to say beyond that.

"What did you see?" His father asked, leaning down and putting a reassuring hand on the boy's shoulder, "You were crying and yelling…This about the simulation?"

Robin felt his throat go dry and he numbly nodded slightly before then shaking his head, "A little…I mean, in there, the test…You guys…" Robin began, but then he let the words die – he couldn't tell them; if they already didn't know, he _couldn't_ tell them. The words would be blasphemy, unholy profanity – it was bad enough telling Kid Flash about the horrors of his earlier years; there was no way he could sit and describe to his parents their own apparent death. He doubted there were even words to effectively describe pain of that nature. There weren't even words to describe how astounded he was to be with them again – he never thought he'd get the chance. He'd never dared hope.

He had – many times in the darkness of Wayne Manor – mulled over questions that could never be answered. He had always focused on one in particular, though, one that was always pushed to the back of his mind, but somehow always scratching the surface of his thoughts when he was completely alone. It was a simple question, really, but the implications of the answer had meant he'd never allowed himself to consider it for very long.

_Given the chance, would he have rather become Robin with the loss of his parents, or would he rather them be alive?_

But he knew the answer now, an answer he had long evaded for the safety of his heart – he would have happily given up Robin to keep his parents. He was positive that if he'd been real, Bruce would have understood. He'd lost his parents too, and Robin would have bet anything that part of the Batman still lingered in those childhood streets, his mind still trying to think its way out – some part of him trying to find ways that would have meant that the Batman had never been; ways that his parents could have lived. Just like Robin had done since he was nine. Bruce would have understood.

"We what?" his father prompted, and Richard shook his head.

"I can't even remember; Must have been an after-effect or something," Dick nonchalantly slid in the comment before he averted his gaze to the bright morning sun that had flooded the room and was currently a liquid gold, "Let's make pancakes," the teen suggested, throwing the sheets off and slinking his feet to the ground.

"And bacon," his father blurted, a familiar smile appearing on his face as he turned to his wife to motion for her to follow them to the kitchen.

"Don't forget omelets! We'll have a regular Grayson Feat." Mary chuckled, peeling out of the room.

He didn't like to lie, and he wanted badly to sit them both down and ask them never to leave again. He wanted to try and find vocabulary strong enough to tell them he'd missed them more than they had ever known – that he'd picked up the mantle of Robin and faced down the bad guys, that he'd done it to make them proud. He'd have told them it wasn't their fault, that Zucco had unhinged the cables. He'd have told him that the man was in jail; he'd have told them everything.

But he didn't.

Things had changed since then – or rather, they hadn't changed at all.

His parents hadn't fallen.

He'd never had to say goodbye.

He never had to.

Robin turned back and faced them, a smile playing on his face before he grabbed the stair handle and slid down the railing like he had so many times at Wayne Manor; he'd been an acrobat for years, flying through the air – but he'd never once felt so weightless.

* * *

><p>Zatara fingered a black top hat in her hands; one that looked like the one Giovanni had worn when she was in the simulation. The rim was just as glossy, the material just as welcoming as it had always been as she slid it between her fingers absent mindedly.<p>

They were in her father's trailer – apparently Giovanni Zatara and his daughter had maintained a traveling magic show since she was little. They'd been traveling between Star City, Gotham, and Central for years, occasionally making small tours around Metropolis and other cities that were breakaways from their normal route.

Her father was rested beside her, both of them sitting on a spare box meant for the body-separation trick, the 'saw' discarded somewhere behind them. Her father was leaning to the side, though, rifling through the assortment of boxes, plastic containers, and gags for the show, trying to organize and prepare for the act tonight.

"Ah, Zatana," he chatted as he worked, and Zatana turned her head towards him – she had forgotten how much she missed his idle conversations, his voice filling the room, "I am so glad your doctor's visit finished in time for you to perform with me."

Zatana smiled, flipping her cascading hair behind her shoulder, "I am too," she replied, and her father turned his head towards her, sending her a warm look.

She'd missed her father's face. She'd missed his voice; _his_ voice, not that sickly combination of her father's gracious tone and Nabu's strict power. She'd even missed his over-protective nature. While she would still confess to Robin that it got on her nerves, she also would have to admit that it kept him just as close to her as he tried to keep himself to her.

She stayed away from the fact that there was no Robin to confess to. That there was no Artemis to hang out with. There was no Miss Martian to cook and talk with. There was no Aqualad, there was no Superboy, and there was no Kid Flash.

But there was finally reality; stability. As a magician, she'd always believed in magic. She'd never relied on black and white pictures of the world to define anything; with magic involved she couldn't. Because of this, she'd always trusted her faith in miracles. No matter how unexplainable they may have been, she had confidence them. But this miracle – being here with her father – was so much more than she could have hoped for. This one had explanation, foundation, and purpose. It had her father.

"Do you feel well enough to practice?" her father asked, and amusement played down his features when he caught sight of Zatana's indignant look that had taken over her contemplative expression.

"I'm sure; I've been doing this since I was little," Zatana intoned; ever since she had come back with her father, she'd had memories start to resurface, just like the doctor said they would. She could vaguely remember teetering along the stage as a toddler, her father teaching her to help nearly as soon as she could walk. These foggy scenes continued into her later years, though she never gave much thought to them. They just seemed to show up when she needed them. Another miracle.

Giovanni looked amused, twirling his mustache indolently as he put on a mask of mock-belittlement, "That long? How is it you are not better?"

Zatana laughed, lightly shoving him, "I have a horrible teacher," she chided him, and he stood up defensively.

"I suppose then I'll have to do a better job of teaching!" he sighed with mock scorn before a more serious expression washed over his face.

"I know it was only for twenty-four hours," he paused, "But I missed my baby girl," he gave her a light smile, his lips pushing his mustache up.

Zatana's eyes almost watered – but she kept her confidence and held back the tears.

"I missed you too, Dad. I really missed you. I mean," she faltered and then took a deep breath, "When we were in the simulation, I lost you."

"I died?"

"No," Zatana amended quickly, catching the worry in his eyes, "No, I lost you because…this'll sound weird, but you got taken over by a magic helmet, and he wouldn't let you go. And…I couldn't do _anything_."

Giovanni paused.

"I will never leave you," he promised sensing his daughter's apprehension.

The girl nodded, a weak smile touching her lips as she accepted the words.

Then, Giovanni scratched his chin, "A magical helmet? What is wrong with those doctors?" he asked in a fake voice of bewilderment, and he chuckled at the same time his daughter did.

"Now, let's get to work; Full house tonight."

Zatana and her father began to work out their act.

Occasionally, Zatana would slip up, having relied on her former authentic magic (causing her father to give her puzzled looks when she shouted with her backwards words), but for the most part, she felt herself simply knowing the steps and how to work the tricks and sets, her sleight of hand seeming almost natural as she worked.

When night fell the curtain lifted.

And Zatana, dressed in almost an exact replica of her hero-costume, knew it'd been worth it.

Fingering the material of her own magic hat, feeling the silky exterior even through her sheer gloves, she placed it on her head; the show started.

* * *

><p>Author's Note: 2, 407 words, not counting mailbag! My personal goal is to never let a chapter get below 2,000 per chapter. Also, you guys have been amazing in you reviews; Thank you all of you. This story has favorites, tons of hits, and dozens of alerts! Seriously – you people are making my day! Thanks!<p>

Author's Mailbag:

.: Aw, thank you! And yeah, hard not to be happy for Robin, considering this is what he's wanted since he was nine.

GhostDog401: LOL, Wally Whumpage is…It's a guilty pleasure. For some inexplicable reason, I heartlessly whump my favorite characters. I console myself by not killing them…I am a horrible person. Anyway, thanks!

RoXaS707: I feel bad for him too; and totally, it's okay. You should see me fangirl – I swear, it's like I won a lottery every time I see a fiction I like…and when it gets updated. But honestly, who's to say I didn't? There are really talented authors on here.

Anbu Fox: Hmm…That's one very possible theory. Very possible.

Dextra2: Double? Six two foot tubs that are two feet deep _filled_ with Alfred's cookies? 0_o I'm going to be one happy fat girl.

Anna McNarin: Thanks! :D

Queen JoJo: It's okay- fanfiction hasn't let me on in days. :/ And yeah, someone will be. It's actually going to be Megan. Surprise.

Foubritt: Dude – a disco ball. Seriously – you are the best superhero ever. I mean, I doubt even Batman is cool enough to have included a disco ball. And Conner's chapter is going to be coming up!

Dreamwritergoddess: Aw, well, shucks. (Yup – I said "shucks") That is really nice of you and I'm super glad you like this!

KaliAnn: Phew – I'm glad you thought Roy and Artemis reacted properly. I was worried; thanks for clearing me up on that! And I feel awful for Wally – not enough to uproot any angst, of course. But I still feel awful. ;)

LyndseyRyder12: Alfred will show up later; I didn't know how to write him into that part – when I did it just moved weird and kind of got awkward. But there will be Alfred, because I love his cookies. And, yeah! Another person glad to see me among the living! Now doesn't that just warm my heart?

NancyDrewGirl: Seriously, I love that you like this and that you enjoyed chapter three. Actually, I didn't get a Beta, but I read over it a few times, which I think cleaned it up rather nicely. I can't even say how much I hope you enjoyed Dick's, because you are the original plot-owner of this and I hope I do a good job with it. Thank you!

Digitalfangirl15: LOL, thank you SO much for your comment! You called my story gorgeous! Also, I love how honest you are with your opinions; mostly because I generally feel the same way. Now, Robin's was a little angsty, but really I think it's important to establish that he _lost_ something important. He's finally getting something he never thought he'd have – it's a lot to take in. Anyway, I really hoped you liked it!

Celestialstarynight: Yeah, I went on the same basis you did for the characters. We'll (of course) see more of Dick later, but these are his initial feelings.

Rowanwall: LOL, I try. But seriously, thanks for your notice of detail. It's nice to know people spot them and like the small things I put in there. Also, I'm glad you liked the "Richard Kid" part. Mostly because I just realized it when I was writing. And everyone seems fairly pleased with Ollie, but I mean seriously? How can you _not_ just love him? And I just realized how out-of-place Roy must feel – he's the only one who's not a blonde. 0_o

AsClicheAsItCanBe: Ollie is definitely one of my favorite adult-heroes to write for, just because he's…awesome, I guess!

Lilmissfashionista: Sorry your flight got delayed, truly, but I have to say, that's one of the most entertaining reviews I've ever gotten. I mean, I was legitimately laughing. Like, tears of joy are staining my carpet because I was rolling on the floor. LOL "The lack of sleep affects me greatly" Me: o_0 Yes it does.

Ally Marton: Why hello! Wally's my fave too! He's just amazing at being awesome like that; I don't think he can help it. Anyway, thanks for the mailbag compliment! Especially with the whole "This is the only story of its kind" thing going on in the foreground. So much flattery! :) Thanks!

Kandy Kaylor: Well, thanks! That's really sweet of you! And I sit like that _all_ the time – and you doing it when Artemis was doing it…Total Twilight Zone going on there. Funny, but twilight zone. :D Glad you're so excited!

CHikaRoXy: Whoa…Nine? *whistles* Kids today…I mean sure, I'm 15, but still. And I won't take it lightly; I really appreciate that! I'm a Wally kinda girl myself, but Robin is definitely tied with Artemis for number 2.

Mixxi: I wonder if you're right….And you will never make me talk. XD

Fantasy93: Thanks for reviewing! Hope you enjoy it, and thanks for keeping up with it! :) Really makes my day!

Safirel: You guess correctly – Wally is my favorite character! He's interesting to write for, because of his powers, of course, but also because his personality has a lot of layers. I love that you love my writing! That's one of the nicest compliments someone can give a writer!

Adoglover5: *Gasp* Really? Breaking Speed is coming back! Ah, I oughta hug you! *tackles* THANK YOU! Thank you for the Wally-Whump!

Vesta Dragon: Yeah, Robin and Batman are pretty cool – well, way more than that. And hands down, Dick is the best Robin. His story, personality, and over-all character make him a loveable character. Not to mention his eyes! Mine is, unsurprisingly, Flash and his family ( KID FLASH).

DayDreamingofYou: Amen! Wally and Robin together is the CUTEST bromance out there. It's just ADORABLE! I really hope you enjoy this! Especially since a lot of people were excited for Robin!


	5. Connections

_"Being happy doesn't mean everything is perfect. It means you have decided to look byond the imperfections"_

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><p><strong>Chapter Five: Connections<strong>

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><p>Blurred edges greeted his eyes when he managed to pry them open beneath the surface; and suddenly Kaldur knew his world was bleeding. But he didn't move, simply keeping himself submerged beneath the water.<p>

He wasn't like the sea anymore; he wasn't strong. Where the sea eked away at everything with subtle strength, Kaldur had none. Where the water twisted and turned, comfortable with change, Kaldur found he wasn't. Where the people of the sea saw the whole of things and understood losses and gain, he couldn't. Where the sea had offered stability and clarity, family and familiarity, Kaldur realized he had lost it.

His people had always accepted that nothing stayed the same forever, and that lives were short but meaningful, that people came and went, rose and fell, just like the tide. But Kaldur was finding he just _couldn't_ anymore. As though a piece of him had simply _evaporated_ from his heart; where the sea did not cry for a the loss of a single drop, Kaldur felt the pain of a searing gap. The stability he had once found in the crashing waves was now invisible to him. Or, rather, he'd never seen it.

Atlantis wasn't real. King Orin was not a king at all; he was a principle for a small school who could barely manage to keep the swim team funded and afloat. King Orin was just an uncle, who had only looked at him blankly when Kaldur had tried to address him as the royalty his was used to. While the man still maintained decent formality and an open mind, treating Kaldur with the same maturity and responsibility, he just didn't _feel_ like the Orin he knew.

Mera wasn't herself either, though her stomach was still full and round with Orin's child – his _real_ child. Not the boy he'd taken in, not Kaldur – not some child who'd been left behind because no one _wanted_ him. The queen was kind as ever, big and accepting. But she was like Orin; the same, but _different._ Not identical in the way that mattered.

The only people who hadn't changed were Garth and Tula. But one thing was different between all of them; Tula was his. Her and her bight smiles that matched the intensity of her coral-colored hair, and her personality as bright as the sun and lively as a school of fish – were his. Garth wasn't even harsh about it, Kaldur having found his interests otherwise occupied with some girl he wasn't aquatinted with.

Kaldur sunk deeper into the school's pool, almost touching the bottom of it.

He was confused; and why not? Emotions were conflicted, and his thoughts were no better.

He missed Atlantis. He missed his team.

He remembered Robin and Wally, who he'd come to see as younger brothers. Their childish antics had always conflicted with their work, and it had constantly taken Aqualad aback when he stopped a moment and reminded himself they were still kids, after all. Even though Kid Flash could recite how to correctly turn a piece of medical equipment into an EMP bomb, and even though Robin knew several ways to render a human being unconscious with his bare hands – they were still kids. It was hard not to think of them as kin when they had taught him of the surface world. It was easy to forget that they were fully aware of their work and still managed to enjoy it. But it was easy to love them for it.

He remembered Artemis, who was clever and tough. Though she was Wally's age, she had never attempted to hide her callousness for the work. She'd never seemed all that juvenile to Kaldur, save when the archer and the speedster had bickered – but Kaldur had suspected it was just their own strange way of communicating that they cared. Ineffective, admittedly, but for some reason or another it had seemed to appease them.

He remembered Megan, and smiled and small but fond smile. Her upbeat persona and unique perspective had often been a nice break, whether she displayed it through attempts at keeping her teammates fed or trying to convince Artemis to go shopping. She had also been a good companion to Kaldur when the two of them had sat down and worked together to try and understand human culture, while also divulging small pieces of information related to their original homes, Mars and Atlantis.

Thinking of the Martian soon brought up Superboy, and Kaldur winced. The clone had never been too afraid to speak his mind. Kaldur admired the trait, seeing it as valuable when it came to team communication. Conner very rarely beat around the bush, and not because he was stupid or uneducated – he had proven Cadmus had taught him a variety of subjects. He did it, if bluntly so, because he saw the world for what it was. Honesty was an attribute the people of Atlantis highly admired.

He thought of Zatanna and Roy, and he was surprised by the degrees his hearts had shifted.

It had all been fake. A _simulation_. Not a train-for-failure exercise, no. He'd simply woken up, and his world was gone. If he'd known it was that easy to destroy something precious, he would have appreciated each moment a little more. He would have been a better leader.

Was it possible to miss something that hadn't happened? Was it really? Wouldn't it be better if he forgot the events of a day in exchange for memories of a life? Kaldur paused; reality was not the world he had thought it to be.

He used to find so much stability in the water; now everything was a foggy mess. He used to find the view of the sea precise, the lines wonderfully sharpened and the colors beautifully contrasted. Now, however, the lines that paved the world had bled, swirling into in unintelligible mess. The colors, once so clear and lucid, were distorted and washed-out. The colors seemingly leaked in the water.

It looked like his world was bleeding.

Kaldur glanced around - being underwater did not feel at all like it once had. His movements weren't concise, but instead his skin dragged to create untidy ripples whenever he wished to move. He frowned, blaming the loss of his webbed fingers for his lack of grace. He tried to push himself forward, but the movement was almost alien to him now. Normally he would rocket through the tides, propelled by simple movements. Now even swimming was a burden, as unfamiliar as walking on land had once been. He was clumsy.

Suddenly Kaldur felt a pain in his chest, and his thoughts returned to the present when he took notice of his body's protests. His heart was feeling as though it would explode - Kaldur had no idea of what this strange new pain was. Desperately, like a caged animal, Kaldur instinctually lunged for the surface, his feet kicking madly and his body forbidding him from trying to gulp down mouthfuls of oxygenated water like he generally would. He no longer had gills.

Kaldur felt his chest starting to flinch, jolting out, up and down, with the frustrated beats of his heart – Kaldur felt himself go numb – he was drowning. _He_ was _drowning_.

His head broke the surface, the water crashing down around him like a million shattering pieces. He broke out into gasps, and Kaldur quickly paddled over to the pool's edge, using his arms to keep himself afloat as he gagged out water and swallowed air like it was his native breath. His chest heaved in an unhealthful way, his body feeling out of place, his mind clearing itself with every breath of air he stole away.

He'd never felt so ashamed.

When he had managed to return his breathing back to normal, his mind put his experience into words – _he'd almost drowned_.

Kaldur had almost drowned.

Absent mindedly he shifted his weight to one arm, still hanging onto the siding, and used the other to guide his fingers along his neck. At one point in his life, his fingertips would have met gills. Now, though, they met only his smooth skin. He touched his featureless neck with his web-less hands, knowing that he had almost drowned in what he'd thought to be his home.

"_So close, but yet so far_," Kaldur thought sadly. He couldn't remember which land-dweller had uttered the words first, but Kaldur doubted the man had ever known what truth his words could hold, even when spoken from another's lips. Here he was, completely surrounded by water – and Kaldur had almost drowned.

Kaldur glanced back down into the gentle rolling waves of the pool, remembering how clogged, how broken and disjointed, his world had looked. How the colors bled, how the water appeared to be crying. He then looked at his hands, his human hands. His naked neck, his unremarkable hands, his undistinguished body – and Kaldur pulled himself out of the pool.

But as he sloshed himself over to where his towel was waiting, feeling as though he weighed a million pounds, he found his walk to be greatly shortened – Tula was waiting by the pool side, a dry towel in hand and shy smile lighting up her face.

"Kaldur!" She called happily, running up to him at full force, using the towel like a shield as she used it wrapped her arms around him in a hug, "I was worried – you never practice this late." She said quietly in a warm voice.

Kaldur blinked a couple times, forcing himself not to step away and tell her that she belonged with Garth – because she didn't.

Instead, her returned her hug, and forced a smile onto his face; impressed with himself because the smile did not seem forced at all. Then again, he didn't have to force a smile for Tula. Her presence always seemed to do that to him.

"I have a lot on my mind of late," he murmured, and pulled away so he could dry himself off with the towel.

Tula frowned and glanced up at him, "What's on your mind?" she asked before her expression turned mischievous, "Me?"

Kaldur smiled, "Actually, yes."

"Kal?" she asked, seeming to sense that he was not giving her his full answer.

"Yes?"

"Are you happy?" she inquired.

"…I am."

Sometimes it was hard to tell the difference between swimming and sinking.

And other times it was nice to simply float.

* * *

><p>Three plates sat on the small kitchen table. Currently, two were in use while the third sat idle.<p>

Lois sat on one end of the table, and Conner was on the other, both silent, though for two spate reasons.

Lois was busily typing away at her phone, Conner hearing her apologetically mumble about her work never leaving her alone – she was nearly _constantly_ sending e-mails or texts, occasionally even picking up the phone and having a conversation of upmost importance that generally lasted…the record was three minutes.

It was baffling to Conner how a conversation of such seemingly pathetic length could hardly justify surpassing a simple text message, but he'd been briefly assured that the calls were absolutely necessary. Though frankly, when Lois answered, Conner noted that she mostly responded with yes or no questions, barely even giving explanation as she rapidly answered, her words streaming out of her mouth like bullets from an automatic; she reminded him vaguely of Kid Flash when the speedster would get excited about something.

But, apparently, he wasn't real. Not in the way that mattered, anyway.

Conner hadn't decided how he felt about it.

Conner glanced down at his food – a microwave dinner on a paper plate – and gave it a quick inspection, trying to decipher how the thin scrap of 'meat' lying limply in the middle of the plate could be described as 'steak'. He'd had steak before, and it hadn't exactly looked like a misplaced hamburger patty. He took a plastic fork a gingerly poked at the 'meat', trying hard not to get any of the 'corn' or 'gravy' stuck to the 'silverware'.

Lois was having, as Conner had quickly discovered, a rare moment where her phone wasn't preoccupying her time, and she saw him treating his dinner as a bomb-technician would treat an unknown explosive. Sighing, Lois smiled briefly, looking a little tired, which suggested that espresso had worn off from earlier.

"I know, I know - TV dinners are lame. But I have calls coming in from the station, and Clark is having me process his photos, and that article from last week _somehow_ didn't print, so I'm _way_ off schedule," she began to list, but then her face kind of got an exasperated expression, and she wiped it clean with a exhausted smile, "But tomorrow is Saturday, and that means we get to relax a little," she finished, looking relieved, "Or at least if we do something, we can make it _fun."_

Conner tried to mimic her reassuring smile – he liked Lois.

She looked at him. He hadn't had a lot of adults do that, except Black Canary and occasionally Batman on one or two rare occasions. And really only the Team had given him any sort of attention beyond the basics, considering he tended not to care about the opinions of the kids who went to school. And besides that, she was _nice_. That was worth something. Actually, it was worth a lot. Canary was nice, in way. Megan was super nice – Conner had plans to call her after dinner was out – and Conner realized it'd been a while since anyone new had really seen past his scowl. It was a bonus she seemed to like what she saw.

And then another thought hit him – Lois was his _mom_.

He'd never had one before. Frankly, he'd never had a _family_ before – though that wasn't entirely accurate because he was fairly certain the Team had become what Robin had called an "adoptive family". But this was the first time he'd actually been able to look at someone and know he belonged.

Luckily, Conner was saved from trying to come up with a response when he realized he'd paused too long, because Lois's phone vibrated and shook the table like the apocalypse would come if she didn't perform her civic duty and answer the cell.

She shot him a playfully sorrowful look that made him crack a genuine smile before she picked it up, accidently letting some of her boredom leak through when she asked, "_What?_"

But then her voice softened and grew airy, like some weight had been lifted off her shoulders, or perhaps she'd won something, and Conner shot her a curious look.

"Clark!" she exclaimed, "How are you?"

Clark…? Or right...Clark was Lois's husband, like the report had said. And Lois was his mom, so…So Clark must be his father. Conner glanced at the empty plate at the table, wondering who his father was.

Then he thought of Superman and thought, rather grumpily, that he didn't really have much to lose in the father department.

"Huh?" Lois's thrilled voice brought Conner back to the present, and he began to once again pay attention, "You're coming home early? When?" the woman asked.

Conner waited a beat, silence filling the room with eager anticipation that was practically flooding off of Lois.

Then she stood up rapidly, her delighted squeal piercing Conner's ears like he had super-hearing again as she pushed her chair back and ran to the apartment door.

Conner confusedly turned to see what was going on, and followed her.

He reached her just in time to see her fling open the door and smile widely before hugging someone Conner still couldn't see because the door was blocking his vision.

Almost frustrated, Conner bit back the instinct to simply rudely interrupt Lois and waited until the man stepped through the door.

After a second or two, Lois pulled away from whoever she'd been greeting, and Conner watched carefully as he eyed the door to see who Clark, his father was.

He supposed he should have been as surprised as he was when he saw Superman walk through the door.

Clark looked down at Conner, and the clone was almost chocked to see a genuine smile on the man's face.

"Conner!" he said warmly, in Superman's voice. Then he stepped over and slapped him on the back like Barry had done to Wally – the first time he'd ever touched him, "Glad to see you, son!" he remarked happily before eyeing the empty plate on the table, "Is that for me? I'm _starving_…"

"Uh…" Conner murmured, figuring the energetic meeting required some sort of offering, but finding his mouth and brain blank. The last time he'd seen this man, he'd wanted virtually nothing to do with him.

"Don't just stand there!" Clark inserted, taking a seat after he heated up his own TV dinner, "Come here and tell me what it was like!"

Conner stared at the man for a minute, blinked slowly as Lois found her way back to her seat, and finally took his own again after swallowing.

"Okay," Conner mumbled before beginning a long and twisted story of a clone who awoke and joined a team so he could wake up again a boy to come home.

The whole time he tried to explain, he couldn't help but look as the two people before him actually paid attention. He couldn't help but feel himself relax. He couldn't wait to tell Megan. Before he'd never really felt like he belonged anywhere, even when he had. But now…it was amazing how having a family made everything feel secure, like you belonged somewhere.

Conner decided he didn't mind having parents.

Even if Lois seemed inclined to cook with a microwave instead of a stove and Clark appeared to be busy most of the time.

* * *

><p>Author's Note: Ugh, okay, I lied. So, this was supposed to be centered on Megan and Conner – but I liked this order better. In fairness, this is almost 3,000 words long. And you know what else? It's longer because something very special happened, an occasion I like to mark with every single one of my stories – 100 reviews, BABY! High fives everyone! You know how I've been asking for Alfred's cookies? I've been saving up so I could rain virtual cookies down onto all of you for your kindness!<p>

Author's Mailbag:

ANNOUNCEMENT: Because I'm posting this really late, this mailbag will be answered tomorrow through the PM system. I love all of my reviewers and readers, so it's actually in your best interest if I reply when my brain is coherent and my words don't resemble splatter art. Rest assured I'll get to you all when I'm not pretty much half-dead.

Write you all soon, and goodnight! (Or morning, or afternoon, or whatever the case may be)


	6. Beautiful Lies

"_The worst lies are the lies we tell ourselves. We live in denial of what we do, even what we think. We do this because we're afraid. We fear we will not find love, and when we find it we fear we'll lose it. We fear that if we do not have love we will be unhappy."_

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><p><strong>Chapter Six: Beautiful Lies<strong>

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><p>Two brown eyes stare back at her, carefully examining her face. They gaze at her peach colored skin, carefully touch every lightly orange tinted freckle that dapples her peach toned skin, and follow every strand of her long red hair. The eyes themselves notice how they are the exact color of melted chocolate, and that they look warm, a characteristic that is only emphasized by honey colored flecks that are streaked within the chocolate puddles. But above all else, the thing she notices on her face is the smile that highlights her strikingly white teeth.<p>

Megan Morse is beautiful; more importantly, she in genuinely breath-taking. She's not a pretty picture because she is trying to hide a hideous monster with her powers. Her appearance is not a façade, it's no longer a mask, it's not a lie – Megan Morse is real. That image that reflects in the mirror is_ hers_. She hasn't morphed into anyone, she isn't lying, and her shape is her own – Megan Morse can finally be something she's never been: herself.

She knows this outlook is shallow, she's been told that beauty is only skin deep. But that's not true, really. Beauty isn't merely your coating, it's who you _are_. That's what true magnificence is. It's what's in your heart that determines how you appear – she knows that. But when she was a white Martian, when she was hunched over with horribly elongated hands, her face scrunched with gnarly teeth, mangled pale skin, exposed muscle and a voice that mimicked a tortured animal, she hadn't felt pretty. That had made her lie, trying to cover up her true form with a pretty replacement. Her self-conciseness had made her even uglier, because her lies felt like they strangled her soul and twisted inside of her. The tension had worn her down and made her feel guilty. She'd hated it when Wally had called her beautiful, when he'd smiled at her. She'd wanted nothing more than to tell him he was wrong. She'd wondered what he'd have said if he'd seen her ragged form. She'd felt guilty and deceptive around him and the rest of the Team; but she'd felt even worse with Conner. She'd have told them to stop, she'd have showed them. But…it felt _so good_ to finally hear someone tell her she was beautiful. It'd been like the years of rejection and hurt had melted from her.

It was like she was beautiful. And now she was. For real, though.

Suddenly Megan gasped, her head jerking up when she hears the silent scream of the fire alarm echoing through the kitchen.

"The cookies!" she exclaimed, putting down the silver platter she'd been using to examine herself.

The fire alarm almost seems to be cheering her on as she leaps past the counter and flings open the over door. In her haste she forgets to grab an anything to protect her hand from the heat, and when her fingers get hold of the metal pan she jerks back her hand, waving it furiously.

"That's hot!" Megan screeched.

Megan turned to the sink, ready to try and run the cool water over her hand, but as soon as she did she found herself facing her uncle.

"Megan," John looked at her curiously, slight bemusement touching his eyes as he watched her stick some of her fingers into her mouth as she tried to ease her burning skin, "I take it the metal is hot?"

Megan took her hand out of her mouth, wiping it across her apron hurriedly as she nods her head up and down, "Uncle John! would you like a cookie?" she asked.

Her uncle smiled in amusement, and his eyes darted to the pan and then he nodded, "I would love one…however; I will be the one getting them from the oven while you treat your hand. The burn does not appear severe, but I know that it stings," he told her, and she nodded, her face hot with embarrassment as she darted behind her uncle and began to run freezing water over her reddened skin.

A few minutes later, Megan and John were leaning over the kitchen counter, each holding a cookie.

Megan isn't hungry though…the cookies are burned and vaguely resemble her first attempt at baking. The memory sweeps over her, and she can almost hear Wally's overzealous munching and cheesy compliments, she can almost see Robin trying to keep a straight face as he tries to politely down something inedible, and Kaldur thoughtfully chewing as he attempts to match the taste to an Atlantian equivalent. She can see Artemis sneakily slipping a half eaten cookie into her quiver, then rubbing her stomach like she's full, telling Megan how good it was, even though Megan knows the archer is saying it for her sake. She never cooked cookies for Zatanna or Roy…but she doubts she ever will now.

"What's on your mind, Megan?" John asks, and she looks up at him with a smile.

"That simulation I was part of…These," she said, holding the cookie up where he can clearly see it, "These just reminded me of it. I used to make the Team cookies."

"That sounds interesting. Want to tell me about it?"

And she does.

She talks about what it's like to fly, and sense others thoughts. She tells him about how he mentored her, and how he taught her to work with her powers. She also tells him about Robin, who never showed his face and acted far older than anyone his age should act. She told him about his prefix fascination and how she planned on still using the words he'd thought of. She told him about Wally, who ate her cookies even when they were burned because his metabolism caused him to constantly be hungry and who cracked bad jokes while breaking the sound barrier. She told him about Artemis, who became her sister and friend, and about Kaldur who was her older brother, and Roy who was always a little grumpy.

She told stories about their missions, and how her inexperience grew into skill. She explained to him what a mind-link was and how she implemented it. She told him about the first time she saved someone.

But mostly she talked about Superboy, who became Conner.

The boy who accepted her even when she was green, even when she was white, and accepted her even now.

She told him mostly about Conner, who she's dating.

And when the phone rings, when John sees the caller ID, he hands the phone and mouths two words.

"_It's Conner,"_

And Megan smiled at him, knowing he approved. She grabbed the phone away from him, and immediately immerses herself in Conner's voice as he tells her how great it is to finally be accepted for who he is.

She can relate.

* * *

><p><em>The statement will require explanation, but there is no other way to effectively say what needs said. Batman had decided to take a page from Conner's book, and as taught by the clone, there are times to be blunt. There are no pretty words to disguise the facts, and the League members aren't children who need to be told things lightly.<em>

"_The Team is missing," Batman states, his communicator instantly reaching out to each mentor simultaneously. It's not a mind-link set up, like the children have arranged, but the response is almost as immediate._

_Not surprisingly, the Fastest Man Alive is the first to respond, but his words are rapid fire and sloppy, his speed causing his response to be an incoherent torrent of noise. The only thing that Batman can properly discern from the Flash's reply is that his tone is a mixture of surprise and worry._

_The next to reply is Green Arrow, who interrupts the Flash's unbroken string of voice with his own, "Come again? The Team is missing?" the hero questions._

"_Yes," Bruce affirms, but before he can continue, the King of Atlantis huffs in irritation._

"_By Poseidon's staff!" Orin grumbles angrily, and Batman knows this is rather course language in Atlantis that is hardly tolerated when spoken by citizens, much less royalty like the king himself._

"_No disrespect, Orin," Manhunter's voice cuts in with his calm tone, "I know you are worried, but we are curious as well – let Batman finish," the Martian reasons, and mumbles of agreement come from everyone, even Barry who's managed to get hold of his nerves._

"_As I was saying," Batman continues, his voice unchanged and the gruff undertone no less pronounced, "The Team's communicators have gone off-line; I made an attempt to trace Robin's tracker, but failed – that means whatever has happened involves an outside party. If only the communicators had been disengaged, I would be less worried – however that is not the case. Whoever or whatever has occurred, it's an attack and the disarming of the trackers was intentional." Batman scowls angrily – he knows this will hardly be enough for his colleagues because it isn't even enough for him, but for now this is all he has._

"_Their mind-link is down," Martian Manhunter concludes after Batman's voice dies away, "I have been searching for it sense you alerted us," but the Martina's voice has turned troubled by the end of his statement and everyone connected feels that things are about to get a tad more complicated than they already are, "Also, I am having trouble sensing their minds,"_

"_They aren't dead!" Flash butt in hurriedly._

"_Flash," Batman warns coolly, and the speedster quiets down._

"_No, not dead," Manhunter picks back up, "I am not entirely sure how to word this…Every mind gives off a…signal. I can easily sense the Teams' as I do the Leagues' because I have established mental familiarity with them,"_

"_Go on," Green Arrow supplies, sensing the lull from the Martian is from trying to figure out how to properly explain this to them, "We're big boys, we understand. Even if we don't we've got Batman."_

"_Well…while the Team's signals are usually clear, I can sense them, but only barely so – I highly doubt they are conscious. However, I can tell that whatever they are in isn't a natural state."_

"_Can you track them?" Batman asks immediately._

"…_No. The signal is too vague."_

"_Hey Bats," Flash says in the silence._

"_Yes?"_

"_Where did they disappear at?" Flash asks innocently._

"_Gotham." Batman replies shortly._

"_In that case…see you in a second," Flash states, and suddenly his communicator flits off just as the sound of rushing winds begin to surface._

"…_I think he means that literally," Green Arrow supplies._

"_I don't think that required saying, old friend," Orin deadpans, but his voice has a slight tint of amusement to it._

"_I'll keep you posted," Batman states as his farewell._

"_Why do they never patrol in _my _city?" Ollie grumbles._

* * *

><p>Wally couldn't believe he was actually <em>tasting<em> food. When he'd been a speedster, food had merely been fuel – taste wasn't a factor. While that'd helped with Megan and her attempts in the kitchen, it'd hindered any actual experience with food that was well prepared. Obviously, he'd preferred a hotdog to burnt cookies, but the instant food hit his mouth, it suddenly didn't matter what it was – he simply swallowed to enjoy a brief period of time where he would successfully stave of hunger.

Wally smiled, taking another bite of a hamburger. He tasted every bit of – sweet onions countered with slick pickles, mustard harmoniously blending with ketchup, and cheese spilling out over juicy burger. It was _amazing_. However, it wouldn't have been complete without the mound of fries he'd hidden under a blanket of ketchup. And of course, the occasional swig of an ice-cold coca-cola didn't hurt much either.

But even _that_ wasn't the best part. Wally had noticed that his body had seemed a lot less tense. His foot wasn't tapping, his hands weren't thrumming against the table, and his eyes weren't constantly scanning the room. Before he'd felt like if he didn't move, he'd explode from all the energy. Now time was moving right, his body felt _normal_. He'd almost forgotten what it was like to look at a clock and watch the seconds tick by. He'd almost forgotten what it was like to _not_ be in constant motion.

Wally's eyes darted up, and even though he'd already seen them, he still jumped a little when piercing blue eyes were staring at him. A contemplative yet amused look covered Robin's face. The two had met up at Gotham, Uncle Barry having offered to take Wally there if he still had any interest in keeping up with Dick.

"What?" Wally asked, swallowing a mouthful of fries before shoving his plate towards Dick, "Want some?"

"Huh? Oh, no. I've just never seen you eat like a human being before," Robin joked.

"Well, I've never seen you in public without your glasses before," Wally replied in the same way, taking a ketchup-drenched fry and pointing it at the younger boy.

"Yeah, well…there's nothing to hide anymore," Dick shrugs, "Besides, those were Batman's orders. Apparently my mind based Batman after my Uncle Bruce,"

"Uncle Bruce?" Wally asked, slightly smiling, "Seriously? What's he like?"

Dick flashed him a mischievous grin and something flashes behind his vivid blue eyes, "He's very serious about nearly everything, and when he's not I can't tell if he's trying to joke or not. I also met my grandfather – guess what his name is."

"Whoa…it is Batman. What's your old man's old man's name?"

"Alfred."

Both teens smiled before they burst out into barely contained giggles.

"Your family is amazing, Dick." Wally commented through sniggers.

But his friend's previous jovial exterior seemed to sober, though a smile still graces his expression.

"Yeah…They really are." He agreed, and Wally shot him an understanding look.

"What's it like?" Wally asked carefully in a slow way, not entirely sure what box from Pandora he was about to open as he barreled on through – but that's what best friends were for. They asked the tough stuff.

"It's…it's wonderful, KF – Wally," the teen amended, "I'd wanted this so long…I really just…Sometimes I wake up and I'm afraid it won't be real," Robin admitted, "And every time I do wake up, and it is real, I'm just so thankful. I knew I missed them, clearly, but I guess even I didn't know how much," then Robin shot him a small smile. Wally remembers Dick in the circus during the simulation – Dick may have grown up, he may have moved to Gotham, he may have even become Robin, but truthfully a piece of his heart had never left the circus.

Wally nodded. Robin – Dick – deserved a good life. He deserved good parents, a nice family, and to be happy – even though it'd all been a simulation, Wally thought the boy had suffered enough for one life time. He'd known pain that no one his age should ever know.

Both remained silent for a while, but Dick was the first to break the silence.

"So, how are your parents?" he asked casually, his throat tightening as the words fell out before he could reclaim them, having just realized his mistake. Before he remembered that just as Robin had gotten back his parents, Wally had lost his.

Wally shifted a little in his seat, taking a fry and absent mindedly spinning it around in the ketchup on his plate, "Nah, it's cool," Wally assured, "Just hard to think of 'em that way, you know? And…and sometimes I'm just hit with memories – I don't even know where they come from. Me being slapped, the smell of beer, my mom smoking, cigarettes and beer bottles on the ground; none of them make sense. But recently I've been getting ones of Barry and Iris signing the adoption papers, agreements basically saying they'll take care me and all that jazz,"

"You doing okay, dude?" Robin asked, and Wally shot him a smile that didn't seem as forced.

"You know, I am. I mean, yeah, there are definitely some things I'd change…but it feels _right_ in. You know, in the simulation, with my speed," Kid Flash blinks up at Robin, and Dick is suddenly alert – Wally had never done anything but praise his powers, "I…Nothing _moved_ right, you know? Not just my metabolism – though that was a pain. I mean _nothing_. Like, one time I was working on my homework in the mountain, and Megan asked me to come back when I was done. I'd asked her why, right? She told me I was _thinking too fast_. Like, she couldn't ignore it. And when I looked over at my sheet, it _was done_. Rob – I hadn't been working on it for ten minutes – one hundred problems in less than seven minutes," Wally blinked almost sadly at Robin, "And sometimes I was afraid…well, that one day I'd blink and my life would be over. Sure, the clock was agonizingly slow and seconds took _days_, but then…then they were gone, Rob. I wasn't positive whether I should be afraid of waking up and finding my life had past me by or waking up and finding it hadn't moved at all. So, this is kinda nice,"

Robin nodded, because it made sense.

Wally looked like he was about to say something, but then he just let his mouth hang open and pretended to be just shoving more fries in his mouth. However, Robin caught the look and sent him a curious glance.

"What is it?" Rob asked, and KF fidgeted a bit before swallowing and shrugging.

"It's nothing."

"Tell me," the younger boy insisted, his interest piqued.

"If you had a choice…where would you live?"

Robin knew exactly what the older boy meant, and he frowned a little, but his answer didn't take long.

"Here," Robin replied – he'd already given thought to this, "What about you?"

Wally shrugs, shoving another fry into his mouth, "…I guess I'm okay. Like I said, there are things I'd change, but…But there are perks,"

* * *

><p>Author's Note: I'm going to say one thing right now – viruses <em>suck<em>. While that's not the only reason I'm late with updating (which you can thank school and my laziness for), it's a major reason considering I lost 1,500+ words when a virus infected my computer. I'm on a different one now, but I'll try to get back on track. Whoo! You guys! Thank you SO MUCH for the kind reviews! On with the replies!

Author's Mailbag:

GhostDog401: Ah, thanks! Sorry I haven't been on lately – ugh, I'll try to get better!

Kandy Kaylor: Whoa, thanks! I was nervous with Kaldur because…well, he's Kaldur. Plus, not trying to be mean, but I have little experience writing him and he's not a character I connect with well. But I'm also worried about Megan – I don't like her a majority of the time. Actually, that's not even true – I have no problem with her, but she acts naïve and the only time she pulls her act together is when the fate of Conner and their relationship hangs in the balance.

RazorsarenotRoses: Wally Whump is my life source. I mean that to be funny, but really, I love it to almost an unhealthy degree. But, whatever. We all have our things. I'm really glad that you've enjoyed this so far! It really mean a lot to an author when someone takes time out of their day to say things like that! Thank you! :)

Gwlnshr: Hey! Thanks for your review! Here's an update!

Meow: And viola! An update!

AnbuFox: Yeah, but at least he has Tula to fall back on. And I'm glad you liked this order better – I thought it fit the chapter a lot better. And yes, the team will be keeping in touch! And thanks for the congratulations! 100 reviews is a milestone in each of my chapter stories, so I like to commemorate it! And thanks for your review!

Eternal Mist: Oh, LOL, yeah, I've been busy. And yeah, kinda weird to think of Kaldur drowning, right? I'm glad you liked the description!

Trylan Aire: OOH, hi! And thanks for the review! And no, LOL, you don't sound weird! But I'm super flattered that you liked my story! And there will be Artemis/Wally interaction, along with Roy/Artemis interaction. Hmm…I wonder to. But I'm thinking a more brotherly/sisterly approach because…because you'll find out. :)

Lynsdey Ryder: You cried? I've never made anyone cry before…YES! Well, that came out wrong, but YES! Hit an emotion! High fives and medals and cookies for everyone! Glad you liked this! EEE! I'm excited for this!

KaliAnn: I have some more stuff planned for this…*evil grin* I love how much thought you put into your reviews, and how you classify everything so well! Thank you for paying such close attention.

Mixxi: Thanks! :D I LOVE hitting that mark!

The Official Girl Wonder: LOL – "Robin! 'Nuff said." I don't know why, but I found that funny. Everyone else had an explanation, and I get to Robin and…LOL! Anyway, I'm glad you're enjoying and thank you so much for leaving a review!

Ally Morton: Hmm, a love/hate relationship? *smiles wickedly* THAT wasn't my intention AT ALL…But I latterly laughed when you said, "And YOU are going to fix this!" But seriously, that was a really nice compliment when you said you could read my writing all day – that really made my day! I hope you like this chapter… *smug grin*

XAsClicheAsItCanBe: Phew! Thanks for letting me know people actually could read them – not a lot of people are big fans of Kladur, and while I can understand it, I think he needs some love. So thank you!

Adoglover5: LOL, thanks! At first when I wrote this I almost talked about him with his gills, but then I remembered and wanted to face-palm myself. What can I say? Anyway, I'm SUPER DUPER excited for Breaking Speed ^_^ No pressure or rush, I'm just a fan of your work is all! :) Thanks for your review!

Vesta Dragon: Yeah…Yeah, I know what you mean. It's a little sad…But I'm glad you're putting thought into it! I really hoped you enjoyed Megan! Thank you for reviewing! :)


	7. Wonderland

**Chapter Seven: Wonderland**

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><p>Artemis felt claustrophobic.<p>

She sat with her feet hanging over her bed, both hands clutching the handle of a bow she'd found in her room. The bow was almost the same color of her dark green comforter, and the walls of her bedroom were painted a color slightly reminiscent of freshly fallen green leaves before fall made them into orange and red. The walls were decorated with photos of people she didn't know, but she _felt_ like she knew them. She supposed they were her friends. There were also photos of Ollie , Dinah, and Roy spread out around her living space. Photos of friends and family all around her…but she didn't have a family. Apparently she and Roy were adopted, so she didn't have a family. That seemed to be a common theme in her life. No matter whom she lived with or what reality she lived in, it appeared that she wasn't meant to be in a family. Artemis huffed, rolling her eyes at the revelation – she didn't need one, anyway.

But then a stab went through her heart – a woman with short black hair that hung to her shoulders popped into Artemis's mind, her face smiling and accepting as she gazed up at Artemis with wizened eyes from her wheelchair – her mother.

Her mother who had always wanted the best for her, who had always wanted more for her youngest child than she had gotten the chance for, _her mother_ who wasn't real. Who wasn't alive.

Artemis had looked up everything from a laptop she'd found on her desk in her room. She'd searched for the Team first; results had been negative for all of her teammates and their mentors. She hadn't really thought she'd find anything, but she'd…she'd been _hoping_. She couldn't help it.

Just like she couldn't stop herself from continuing her search with the names of 'Cheshire' or 'Sportsmaster' and 'Huntress'. It was the same urge that pushed her to scout out answers from her medicated hallucination that forced her to search for more innocent titles.

Jade Crock was serving minor jail time with some low-level offences. She'd be out in two years, but her in-out record led Artemis to believe the time out would be more of a vacation than a permanent change in lifestyle.

Lawrence Crock was in jail for multiple offences ranging in their severity – charges of mild child abuse to his child Jade Crock had been reported multiple times, though never officially proven – still, with a few breaking and entering convictions, rather large felonies and several accounts of theft, and two or three charges of manslaughter...Lawrence Crock would probably never see proper daylight again.

Artemis's throat had tightened when she finally mustered up the courage to dig around for Paula Crock. She'd felt her eyes water when she found the short obituary dedicated to her mother. Two paragraphs, if even that, had been dedicated to the woman who'd raised her. However, the driver that had paralyzed her from the waste-down before infection had finally taken _her mother_ away, had several pages devoted to _him_ and _his stupid trial_.

The man had lost his money.

Paula Crock had lost her life.

And Artemis had lost her mother.

Artemis clutched the bow handle harder, in an effort to stifle what may have been a sob. She wasn't going to cry, not tonight. Not in this house with these people. Not now.

Not ever.

Suddenly a flame came into her stomach, and Artemis's grip on the green bow tightened. A dead look of certain determination entered her eyes as she peered out the window behind her to cast a quick glance at the moon. In an instant she'd slung the bow over her shoulder, standing up from her bed and carefully walking over to the window.

The glass reflected her own face, and Artemis saw the deadened stare of determination she held in her gaze. Then she pried open the window so quietly she may have rivaled the Boy Wonder himself, and crept out of the house.

She had to see it for herself. None of this would be real –_ none_ of it – if she couldn't _see_ it. There was a small part of her crying out, a small hope that maybe – _just maybe_ – if she went to her old home in Gotham, she'd open the door and her mother would be waiting for her.

Just maybe life would make sense again. Her mother was the only person Artemis had never had to pretend for. She missed that.

-][-][-][-

Artemis's heart sank when she saw the yellow tape gracing the doorway to her old apartment building, big bold letters that harshly spelled out "CONDEMMED". It was so final, so concluding, so _pitiless_ as it callously ripped away her last hope of finding her old reality_._

The windows were broken, shattered and gaping like mouths stretched into an eternal scream of silence. The bricks were decayed, rotted and corroded with years of neglect – the kind that signified no one had _touched_ this building, aside from maybe cockroaches and rats. The tall building she had shared with her mother was…was _this_.

She had snuck away from the confining barriers of Star City, taken a cab to Gotham, and walked three miles so she could see it for herself. With her own eyes, she could see that the doctors were right. With her own eyes she could watch the lies of her old life unfold into this reality; she could watch her world shrink away to what it really was.

She'd looked in other places.

She'd looked up Paula Crock, she'd tried to find evidence of Huntress, or Sportsmaster, or Cheshire – she'd tried every alter-ego for her Team, for the League, for _anything_; but she'd always gotten the same result. Every time she'd found the same answer.

She'd found nothing.

This – her home – had been the last hope.

And her hope was an old, condemned, dying building nestled into the crammed streets of Gotham.

Her mom wouldn't be waiting for her. Her sister wouldn't be there. Artemis Crock was, after all, only an orphan who'd been allowed to play pretend. Because she _obviously_ didn't get to do that enough.

A cold wind ran through the streets, touching her skin like the freezing touch of ghostly fingers and sending shivers down her spin, somehow chilling her very bones as she re-read the "CONDEMNED" notice scrawled out against neon tape, those images of her mother and her loving smile scalding her mind with _every single broken window_ she saw on the apartment building. Suddenly, Artemis couldn't take it.

She fell to her knees, letting her bow fall with a few clanks against the pavement. Then, against every instinct she'd been raised on, she cried.

She didn't even know why – because _none_ of this had ever been real. None of it. Her father was in _prison_, her sister had _slipped through the cracks_, and her mother was _dead._ She had no one to miss.

"_Then why does it hurt so bad?" _her mind hissed, and her stomach clenched as she choked back a particularly thick sob, "_It shouldn't _hurt_ this bad…"_

Artemis's eyes shut and she let herself cry; she didn't know how long she sat and waited. She felt like she'd been crying forever, but it probably hadn't even been a full minute when she felt a hand wrap around her shoulder.

Artemis tensed, her hand reaching for her bow instantly even though tears were still leaking down her cheeks.

"Leave me alone, or I-" she threatened, hating the thick tightness in her choked tone as she whipped her head around, but she stopped short when she found herself staring into two serious blue eyes that didn't quite match his disheveled red hair. He didn't say anything for a long time, and she hated how weak she must appear at that moment, with her tousled hair, reddened face, and her features flushed from her fruitless efforts of trying to keep the sobs from wracking her body. She resembled a drowned rat.

She stared at him a long time, giving him her hardest look, staring him down as well as she could with her worn appearance. But he stared right back.

"You look like crap." Roy told her shortly. Artemis sniffed shrewdly, flipping her hair back over her shoulder, not attempting to fix her loosened pony tail.

"What are you doing here?" she asked harshly, hating him for seeing her like this. Of all people, Roy wasn't the one who deserved to see her weak. Of all people, Roy shouldn't have been the one to see her so fragile, broken down in a pathetic heap in front of her old apartment.

"Your bedroom is across the hall from mine. I heard you leave." Roy explained simply.

"And that gives you permission to follow me?"

Roy nodded, sitting down next to her, not seeming to care that the ground was damp from an earlier rain.

"Actually, yes, it does." He said, then looked over at her again. The look on his face was foreign to her, and even he didn't seem to recognize the expression he was trying to convey. It was sympathetic, almost.

Artemis sighed, glancing back over at the tape. She didn't need his sympathy. But the tears trickling down her face told otherwise, much to her displeasure. She was _so _much better doing this 'emotional' stuff alone. She didn't want to do this in front of Roy.

"So…so I guess this is real," she murmured, not to Roy in particular as she gestured at the building.

Roy's eyes softened, surprising Artemis a bit. At least the look of sympathy had been replaced by understanding – she could deal with that a little better.

"It'll be okay," he said after a pause, "I'm not going to lie to you, tell you all that garbage about how it gets easier – because it doesn't. But," the older archer breathed in as if trying to decide what to say, "-but it gets better."

"You don't know what you're talking about." Artemis shot out at him, surprising herself with the venom that leaked through her words.

Roy stiffened, "My parents died in both the simulation and here. They're gone. Ollie…he's it for me. Ollie and Dinah have always been _it_."

His honesty astonished her, and she swallowed hard, trying to extinguish her own sorrows. She'd forgotten about it – Roy had never once mentioned his parents, his background, or _anything._ She hadn't realized it in the simulation, but the archer was just as bad as Dick. Worse now, even, because even though she now knew Robin's past, she still had next to nothing on Roy. Or, she hadn't until now.

"…Oh." Artemis muttered unimpressively, "Sorry about that..."

"Don't be. Like I said, it gets better. You learn to live with it. You move on. That's the system, and it works."

Artemis felt one last choking sigh leave her, one last stinging string of tear lines sear her eyes as they burned a final trail down her cheek.

The two archers sat on the corner of the street for a little while longer until Artemis cast a look up at him after she'd managed to choke out the last of her tears and even out her unsteady breathing.

"Thanks." She murmured to him and then threw a look at the building behind her, "I just…I needed to see it for myself."

"No problem. But this conversation never happened."

"Agreed."

"Let's go home," Roy said finally, standing up and cracking his back as he analyzed the moon, "It'll be morning soon and I don't want Ollie and Dinah thinking you've gone off the deep end." He finished, stretching out his hand to Artemis.

She eyed it a moment before accepting it and allowing him to pull her to her feet, "You're right. Um, thank you, Red."

"Call me Roy."

"…You know, you're not a complete pompous jerk after all," Artemis slid in as she started walking.

"Let's not push it," Roy growled slightly before he peered down at her, a slight hint of a smirk just starting to touch his face.

* * *

><p><em>The moon above Gotham was full, and the sky was crammed with an audience of stars peering down expectantly at the Earth as though waiting for something, ready for anything, anticipating everything but guessing nothing. <em>

_Dim streetlights flickered pitifully as if they weren't quite sure whether or not they should be lit at all. The dry pavement waited below, every pothole and crack in the old street practically highlighted by the dismal light provided from the streetlights, the badly illuminated bulbs only having the meager ability of slipping into the closest ranges – and even the light was muted._

_Batman's car slicked out onto the street, the Flash keeping a steady pace beside it as they peeled out from Wayne Manor._

"_So, Bats…" Barry mildly commented as he reopened the communicator's link, his voice only carrying a slight edge with his words now that he'd calmed himself down with the reassurances from Manhunter that the children weren't dead, "What are we looking for."_

_Batman flicked a look at the portable computer that rested in the nook of the car, reading the screen carefully before replying, "The last known signal was given off near a local science lab by the docks. We're checking the main building and the surrounding area first for clues."_

"_What were they doing there? What was the mission?"_

"_They were on watch duty – the lab has been reporting recent break-ins and multiple accounts of vandalism. Usually I would have let the authorities handle this sort of situation, but the criminal has yet to appear on camera, which is harder for run-of-the-mill crooks. The mission objective was simply a review and report."_

_Flash shot a look at Batman that Bruce caught through the tinted windows, "What's the lab researching?"_

"_I already checked in with that. They have multiple fields of study. At first I thought Poison Ivy might be behind this, because of a recent plant-based toxin they've been experimenting with, but Ivy is currently located at Belle Reve until she can get her attorneys to relocate her back to Arkham."_

"_Okay, so who else?"_

"_Aside from that there is no other reported research that might catch the eye of anyone in particular."_

"_So the lab has some secrets too?" Flash asked, picking up on Bruce's line of thinking._

"_I don't think they are behind this, but no. I don't believe they have been completely honest about what other fields of science they've been investigating."_

Author's Note: Hey guys! It's been a while…again. But hey, an update! Also, you guys have been absolutely lovely with your AWESOME replies; it honestly makes my day better! Plus…there are reasons to my late updating, as recently I have been attacked by plot bunnies. I will have a poll up after this story is finished if you would like to vote. Actually, check out my profile page anyway to see if I have already posted if you would like to vote on what I put my attention on next (warning: may be a while before I can post the new story after this one is finished.) Okay, now – DID YOU GUYS SEE THE NEW EPISODE? Where is Wally? Where is Artemis? Is there no love for Roy or Kaldur? My babies are missing! Sorry, my rant is over, but really, I'm crushed. :( Okay, on with replies!

Author's Mailbag:

(Author's Mailbag answered through PMS –for real this time!)


	8. Adjusting

**Chapter Eight: Adjusting **

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><p>Conner woke to…the distinct smell of eggs frying, mixed in with bacon, and possibly pancakes. Sitting up and ignoring the content cracking of his back, he thought back to the last time anyone had made him breakfast. After nearly a minute of thinking as he wiped sleep from his eyes, he could only remember once – it had also been the last. Batman had <em>clearly<em> explained why Megan was no longer allowed to cook breakfast without supervision ever again…after, of course, the League and the Team had put out the fire and sent an order for a new stove-top oven, and a few other appliances that had been damaged as a result. Though, in retrospect, Conner had noted that perhaps a _gas-burning _stove had not been the best choice. Had the simulation been real, Conner would have contacted Batman and suggested to him that he should order an electric stove as a replacement. Conner's feet hit the floor of his bedroom and he threw of the blankets, shrugging off the idea and instead enjoying the feeling of getting uninterrupted sleep.

The first night he'd slept here, it'd been…difficult to get to sleep. He was used to sleeping in the Mountain, where random clinks and clanks were a common occurrence. It'd actually grown comforting over time, and the nightly noises had become something he fell asleep too. The apartment, on the other hand, was silent and peaceful when the sun fell down over the sky. However, Conner had finally had a good night's sleep.

Trudging out of his room after he'd thrown on some pants and put on a black t-shirt, Conner found his way into the kitchen, where he was surprised to see Lois bent over the stove, Clark working on a griddle next to her. Lois was flipping eggs, and Clark was attempting to flip pancakes. Bacon was sizzling on the same griddle as the pancakes were being cooked, and Clark was successfully burning the strips with the same grace Megan had displayed before she'd learned to bake cookies. He almost laughed at their cramped arrangement, Lois's elbows colliding with Clark's every now and again.

"Uh, good morning." Conner said smiling a bit, making his way into the kitchen and leaning casually against the counter.

Clark and Lois whipped their heads around in nearly perfect unison, surprise lighting their faces. Lois was the first to respond, but her eyes were playfully narrowed at Clark.

"I _told_ you getting out the pan would wake him up!" she hissed teasingly before glancing up at Conner, "Morning!"

Clark rolled his eyes, "_You _got out the pan because bacon is his favorite," he muttered jokingly, laughing a bit when Lois elbowed him in the ribs.

"You didn't have to do this," Conner gestured to the breakfast cooking, "And besides, I woke up on my own."

Both Lois and Clark (his parents, he supposed) exchanged smiles between themselves.

"We know we didn't," Clark began, "But Lois and I know we've both been busy lately, and this last week has been pretty hectic for you with the whole…what would you call that, Lois?"

"Hmm, simulation?" she provided, a contemplative look on her face.

"Simulation with the doctor's," Clark continued, "We figured it'd be nice to have some time just to ourselves. Besides, I learned how to make pancakes." The man finished, gesturing to his creation.

Conner peeked down at a few charred clumps of blackened batter. They appeared to be slightly circular shaped, and Conner and Lois exchanged a quick knowing look with one another.

"You certainly did, sweety," Lois commented, leaning in a kissing Clark on the cheek.

Conner smiled briefly. Throughout the whole simulation, he'd always wondered to himself what it was like to have parents. Not a DNA donation, no test-tube, no substitute like Canary. Not even Superman, though he hadn't seemed to want anything to do with him anyway. He'd wondered what it would be like have what Wally had – two parents who enjoyed his company. He'd been jealous of Megan's relationship with her uncle as well, along with the bond Robin and Batman had seemed to share. Actually, the only person on the team who didn't have an interested mentor was himself. So, to be here, to have two people who had gone out of their way – who had extended more than the minimal effort – to make him feel welcome, was something that was more than welcome.

"I really appreciate this, you guys." Conner asserted as Lois placed an egg onto his plate, along with a well-cooked ribbon of bacon and two pancakes.

He even downed the burned bits – they reminded him of his girlfriend.

* * *

><p>Zatanna glanced sideways at her father as they both took a bow. Applause was erupting from the crowd, and when she stood up she found a few roses were being thrown up from the audience, landing peacefully at her feet. Before retreating back behind the falling curtain, she bent down and gave one rose a quick sniff and waved to the standing ovation.<p>

The curtain fell in a satiny mess, and Zatanna felt her father's hand land delicately on her shoulder. She turned to face him, still overjoyed when her eyes met her father's face, and not the golden sheen of a cold helmet.

His eyes were warm as melted amber, and she caught a hint of pride sneaking into his eyes.

"You preformed very well tonight, Zatanna – you make a father proud," he commented.

She felt her smile grow wider and she allowed a sly grin to transform across her face, "Maybe I was wrong, earlier. I have an amazing teacher."

Zatara's mustache rose as he smiled, and before she could brace herself she felt herself being crushed into one of his hugs. Zatara smelled like magic props, cologne, shaving cream, and soap, mixed in with some unidentifiable smell that she had simply labeled as her father's own scent. He smelled just like she remembered him, and instead of pushing her way out of his hold like she had done many times in front of the team, she hugged him tightly back, burying her nose into his shirt.

The movement knocked her hat to the ground, and Giovanni seemed to clear his head as he untangled himself from his daughter's hold and bent down to grab the hat.

After he had hold of the top hat, he took off his own larger one and carefully placed the smaller one inside his own before turning to a storage box and tucked them both away under the plastic lid before picking up the entire small box.

"Come along, Zatanna – we have to be out of Gotham and into Star City by tomorrow afternoon, and I'd like some sleep before that. You need you're beauty sleep." He inserted playfully.

Zatanna chuckled, rolling her eyes half-heartedly, "Give me some time to work on a comeback," she said through a yawn, "Because when I do, it'll be awesome."

After they had loaded up the trailer, Zatanna took shotgun, leaning her head against the back of the seat as her father started the engine. The rumbling sound of the car started as the truck pulled away, taking the trailer along with them. Her eyes closed tiredly as the streetlights flashed by, but her resolve to stay awake forced them to flutter open and sleepily gaze out the window, allowing the buildings to flash by her.

Zatara filled the silence of the vehicle with leisurely conversation, slowly stringing along new ideas for the act, small costume changes ("That vest of yours is cut _awfully_ low, Zatanna"), and small musings in whether or not various back roads would be faster than the highway. He was contemplating just that when they approached a red light and the truck came to a stop.

Zatanna kept nodding along with her father's words as she slid a look out the window. Considering this _was_ Gotham, she half-expected to see a flash of Batman's cape, or perhaps watch him leap from building to building. She somewhat hoped, somewhere deep inside of her, that she might see Robin pulling acrobatics in the air, following after his mentor.

What she did not expect, however, was to see Artemis and Roy.

In the bus that had pulled up beside them during the red light, the two archers were sitting together in a seat. Stranger still, they appeared to be talking to one another _without_ arguing.

Zatanna stared wide-eyed at the sight, and suddenly Artemis turned her head and caught sight of the magician. Recognition flashed in the blonde's eyes and she tapped Roy's shoulder and pointed out the window. Roy leaned forward and made eye-contact with Zatanna. The three exchanged glances for a few beats, and Zatanna gave them a small smile and a wave.

Artemis waved back, and even though her face looked a bit flushed, Zatanna could tell Artemis's grin was genuine. She searched Roy's face, but she grinned inwardly when Roy looked exactly the same – the same indifferent expression. He still looked grumpy, but when she looked at him a bit harder, she noticed his scowl was bent a bit upwards instead of a bit down.

Suddenly, the light turned green and Zatanna's truck pulled forwards as the archers' bus took a right onto the back roads and the bus pulled onto the highway.

She waved a quick good-bye, and this time both of them responded with good-bye wave before the bus disappeared onto the turnoff.

"Who were waving at?" Zatara asked curiously.

"Oh," Zatanna paused, "Just some good friends I used to know."

She _could_ have told her father they were her 'teammates' from the simulation, and she _would_ have if he'd had asked. But Zatanna had accepted that part of her life was gone. She'd let it go, and it was only right to let the others do the same.

* * *

><p>Tula leaned in, pressing her lips against his. He wrapped his arms, around her, lacing their bodies together in a prolonged kiss. His hand found its way into her hair, and he couldn't help but marvel how much it's rich red mirrored that of lively coral. Or they way her sea-blue eyes sparkled like crashing waves, or perhaps the way her laugh bubbled up like air breaking the surface. He was enthralled with the way her body moved with the same elegance and coordination a school of fish demonstrated, or the way she seemed to have glow within her reminiscent of their dancing scales. She even <em>tasted<em> like the ocean. Not salty, though – only fresh and alive. She smelled like a beach, kissed by tides and sun.

Too soon, it seemed, she surfaced for air and the kiss ended – which was disappointing, but he didn't mind as much when her hand intertwined with his.

"I'm so glad you're out of that funk," Tula commented, and she turned her luminous blue eyes back on him, and her face the picture of serenity as she nuzzled her head back under his chin.

They were sitting on the pool side, and her feet made swishing noises as she dangled them delicately into the water. Her sleek legs and slim build were modestly hidden away though, she having dressed in a one-piece.

"As I am, Tula," Kaldur murmured, taking a deep whiff of her hair and hoping she didn't notice as he sighed with content – her locks smelled like an ocean breeze had just recently blown in, "As am I."

"What had you like that?" she asked curiously, her voice only partially muffled by using his chest as a pillow.

"…Many things, I suppose. My mind has been in other places, and I am relieved to say things are finally calming down."

"What sort of things?" she pressed lightly – he did not blame her. He had decided not to reveal too much to her until he'd decided how he felt, and she more likely than not felt like he'd left her in the dark. Her curiosity was to be expected, if not deserved.

"Orin and Mera are having the baby soon." Kaldur offered, and he felt a dark prickle in his heart, like some unseen force was feebly trying to choke him. He felt no malice towards the child, and he certainly had no quarrel with the unborn infant, but part of him was…jealous. He knew he _envied_ the baby that would belong to Mera and Orin, who would be their _son_ or _daughter_ by blood, not law.

"That's what's been bothering? Kal, a baby will not change anything," she argued, sitting up completely and staring comfortingly at him with understanding before a wry smile made her pause and add, "Well, you'll probably have to learn to change a diaper." She corrected teasingly.

Kaldur let loose a small but genuine grin at her banter but shrugged, "No, I know that this child will not affect anything. I'm even excited for the event – Mera has been preparing endlessly for the occasion," he admitted fondly, "I suppose my worries are unjustified. I should not have allowed something this juvenile to influence my mood."

"Oh, don't be so hard on yourself. You can't help how you feel, only how you act on it." Tula assured, falling back onto his chest and wrapping her arms around her, "And from what I've seen, you have only helped them prepare. You helped pick out the streamers, you ordered the cake for Mera, and I saw you helping Orin put up the decorations for the baby shower last week," she went on.

Kaldur smiled, letting her praises wash over him.

"Thank you, Tula," he murmured, and she continued on, her topics slowly shifting in and out her life and his, occasionally touching on Garth's and updating Kaldur about his life as well. As Tula went on, her hands traced his eel tattoos, and Kaldur was happy.

* * *

><p><em>The Batmobile peeled into an old alleyway near the lab, and the Flash was waiting for him when exited the car and pulled out a hand-held tacking device.<em>

"_The last frequency was defiantly given off here…" Bruce trailed, only acknowledging the speedster with a brief glance before walking on – his gesture that demanded to be followed, "Kid Flash's device was disabled near here..." Batman began, pointing down when he reached a trash can that had been flipped on its side. Years of crime scene analysis had taught Batman to notice certain things – like recognizing what had happened as indicated by the placement of objects._

"_The can has a dent here, and here," he showed Flash, "Considering the tracker was disabled here, I would guess Kid Flash was scouting out for the team when he was rendered either unconscious or immobilized. My guess would be though that unconscious, because there are no signs of struggle beyond these dents – which, if I'm correct in judging from the dents, the trash can may have been thrown at his head, knocking him unconscious. Then the assailant would have disabled his tracker and taken him."_

_Flash didn't seem to thrilled with the theory, and his body language was stiff with constrained anger. However, the elder speedster merely whistled, "Phew! You got all that from a dented trash can? They don't call you a detective for nothing."_

"_You seem in good spirits." Batman commented dryly._

_Barry took a deep breath, rocking back on the soles of his feet a couple times before answering plainly, "Listen, I'm in criminal intelligence. You look at a crime scene and you can spot miniscule details and pretty much tell you exactly what happened by what you see. Me, though, I figure out what's going on by the things I _can't_ see. Like here, for instance," Barry explained pointing down where Batman had illustrated Kid Flash's disappearance, "You know what I don't see? Blood."_

_Batman nodded in understanding, "I see."_

"_Gets to the point, and when you're a speedster, that's what you're looking for." Barry replied, "So, we've got Kid Flash – was he out before or after the others?"_

"_I don't have an exact time on any tracker – just signal traces. Artemis's is close by, along with Superboy's. I'm guessing the Team had set up surveillance perimeters, judging by the distances between them before their signals went off. They all appear to be on the rooftops, or in Megan's and Robin's cases, I think they were in the trees."_

"…_So why was Wally out in the open?" Flash asked, but both knew the answer._

"_He saw someone."_

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Hey guys! Whoa! I got a TON of reviews, and that's really nice of you guys – just had to get that out because of how excited I was! Anyway, I'm thinking about exchanging Author's Mailbag for PMS? Any objections? PMS _does_ tend to take a few days for me to get to everyone – but that means I'm able to post faster…So, I'm leaving it up to you guys! :) I just wanted to let you know that your reviews have meant a lot to me and that none will go ignored.

P.S.: I have heard rumor (not certain) that Wally and/or Artemis will be making an appearance with Episode 6! So fingers crossed! So, I've received a few people asking me what I think of season two. I think we should give it a shot – but I am very disappointed with the five year skip. While I could see myself developing a liking for this new cast of characters, I am sad to see they neglected the team I already love – especially since, as most of you know, Wally West is one of my all-time favorite characters. So, grr. And on the matter of Supermartian, it stinks. I had _just_ started to like them together – but honestly, Megan has gone a bit crazy. I bet whatever she did the that alien guy has happened before, and that's why Conner and her broke up! Anyway, this is getting really long, so bye everyone!

P.S.S: This chapter will be answered through PMS, except for the few who weren't able to sign in and I can't PM. **Don't** look for a reply below if you were signed in when you reviewed.

Mailbag:

H8trofToast: That sounds like an amazing dream, for the record – pretty dramatic. Though, truth be told, I totally chuckled at the description of your friends face! Thanks for the user name – I will PM you in the future! Anyway, I am updating so you don't become a pyromaniac, LOL! Thanks for the review – it made me smile!

FranglaisKid: *Le gasp! I _love_ RageComics! That made my day! :D And you _may_ or _may not_ be right, or partially right…We will have to see.

GIRLWONDER: I KNOW. I'm so disappointed – but I have to give Season Two some props for making Beast Boy part of the team – and personally, I'm glad they didn't make him an idiot like they did in Teen Titans. But hey, that's just me. Plus, did you see the change in M'gann's persona? Who wants to bet that's why the broke up?


	9. Before Destruction

**Chapter Nine: Before Destruction**

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><p>Wally bit his lip, his muscles rippling and turning like a steady machine as he plowed forward. His breath was shallow but meaningful, and his legs pumped harder and faster as he approached the finish line – he heard the crowd cheer, the roar from the stands surprising him as he took the final stride and passed over the line. His body wound down to a reluctant halt, and his head felt light from the effort – suddenly he became so dizzy his hands collapsed onto his knees for support, feeling as though supporting himself would take too much effort. He sucked in air, filling his lungs with every breath, smiling largely with a sense of triumph; even though his body was heavy as lead, he felt amazing, as if he could run forever. Listening to the heavy footsteps of the other racers approach him, Wally forced himself to stand upright and not try and look so winded. Wiping some sweat away and pushing his wind-blown hair from his face, he smiled at the competition lining up behind him and tried not to think about how tired he was.<p>

Running had never seemed to require that much energy – well, it _had_ with all the food he'd had to consume – more accurately put, it had never felt like that much _effort_ had been involved. However, there was a feeling of accomplishment as he took one final breath to steady himself. He felt exhilarated and exhausted all at once – a unique and welcome sensation.

He walked off the track, back to his teammates – laughing along with them as they playfully punched at his shoulder and congratulated him.

"Nice first, Wallace!" He heard his coach shout approvingly from behind him – Coach Johnson always shouted, but he had the unique ability to give yells and hollers positive and negative emotions so it was easy to tell his mood. A heavy pat on the back followed the coach's words, and Wally nodded, having regained his breath.

He stayed a few minutes, soaking in the praises and accepting the congratulations, with his track team. However, he was starting to feel strange. A reverberating hum was starting to pound against his skull, and his stomach was starting to perform somersaults, flipping and twirling inside of him uncomfortably – Wally bit his lip, fighting a brief impulse to vomit where he stood. Trying to downplay the sudden change, the redhead smoothed back his sweaty hair, his headache seeming to intensify as he attempted to choke the life out of it. He needed a distraction, an excuse to leave and be alone for a minute, despite his recent victory.

"Thanks guys – I think I'm going to get a drink. Catch you later!" Wally cheerfully exclaimed, not letting even a single drop of his discomfort leak through. Peeling away from his teammates as the next event was called, the redhead trotted over to the locker room, ducking inside just as the loudspeaker began to announce the results of the last race.

The air in the room seemed suspended in a humid sweat-filled fog, but Wally didn't pay much attention to it as his stomach churned. It wasn't pestering him for food like in his old speedster days, but he felt sick to his stomach, and little like he might hurl. It was like someone was stirring the contents of his stomach up with a blender. He trudged past his locker, instead roaming into a small section with a few stalls and sinks; he took immediate advantage of the sink, flipping the water on and cupping his hands under the steady stream until water spilled out over the rim. Then he splashed it over his face, letting the ice-cold water pierce his senses and slide down in little droplets – the water trailed down his face as he stared back at himself in the mirror. He ignored the way that when his head jolted up, the world appeared to have gone off axis – he squinted at himself as the earth seemed to shake beneath him.

He'd felt _fine_ before the run, great even, and even better when he'd finished…Suddenly the world flickered, and for half second he didn't understand what he was looking at – a flash of gray brick walls – and then the locker room was back again.

"Ugh, what's wrong with me?" he muttered, once he regained his bearings, digging the palms of his hands into his eyes.

"Wally?" he heard someone asked from behind him. Wally jumped a little, his mind initially telling him Dick must have somehow slipped away from Gotham to come visit Central. But then everything caught up with him and he whipped his head around to see James, a friend of his from track. Wally had based Trickster off of him from the simulation, apparently. So it surprised him to not see purple streaks zig-zagging down the teen's mop of blonde hair. Wally shook his head slightly, the earth recapturing its proper orbit and settling down.

"Oh, dude," Wally forced out a small chuckle, "Don't sneak up on me like that!"

"I can and will sneak up on you whenever I want," James retorted somewhat sarcastically, though a playful edge layered his tone, "Now, are you going to tell me why it looked like you were about to chuck up your lunch all over the place?" He asked curiously, walking up alongside Wally and slinging his arm over the redhead's shoulder.

"Uh…" Wally began, regretting that anyone had seen him look so winded, "My stomach started acting up after the race – just came in here to try and settle it out."

James eyed Wally before shrugging his shoulders, "Well, this is your first meet since getting back from that research test thingy you were selected for. Coach practically flips when we drink _soda _before a meet, much less sedatives and junk, or _whatever_ they had to do to you for the test. You'll be back to normal before no time!" James assured, a winning smile gracing his face.

Wally nodded – that must have been it. The break from running must have screwed up his system, making his body unused to running. It'd probably take a few days to get back into the swing of things.

"Yeah, I'd bet you're right," Wally agreed running his hand though his hair again, "And my headache's probably from the sun today…I mean, I already feel better."

"Great!" James replied excitedly, "Now come on and let's hurry up – I want to watch the events!"

"I'm ready," Wally said instantly, following James back onto the field.

* * *

><p><em>Barry frowned, "Wouldn't Wally have alerted the team before going after the guy himself?"<em>

_Batman paused, considering. Then his eyes narrowed as a thought occurred to him and he began a slow nod, "Yes – Kid Flash can be rash and impulsive, but he isn't stupid. He would have sent an alert or waited for backup. That taken into account, I'm guessing that the mind-link was down at that point and Kid Flash was targeting the assailant to find the team."_

"_If the mind-link was down at that point, that means Miss Martian was out of the picture before Kid." Flash murmured. Though his luminescent red cowl hid the top half of his face, Bruce caught frown lines starting hint at the tips of Barry's exposed mouth._

"_And because of her proximity to Robin, I'd wager he'd been taken along with her. Aqualad was also close by, and his tracker was disabled just beyond the tree line. His device shows minimal activity before going off-line, so he probably heard their struggled and went to investigate, where he got caught." Batman added, the tips of his lip curving downwards. _

_Flash visibly bit his lip, a small vibration taking over his body as he thought – Bruce had long ago learned that this form of concentrating was far more preferable as opposed to when speedsters paced._

_After a second, Barry slowed down, turning to Batman, "So, Robin and Megan go off the radar, and probably shutting down the mind-link. Here's what I think – Kid was the last to go down. You said he was near Artemis and Superboy earlier, so when he realized the link was down, he went to check on them. Well, he might not have found them – which would mean Artemis and Superboy been captured too. So the whole team is down, and Kid Flash sees the guy and goes after him – where he also gets attacked and taken out."_

_Batman sent a scan around the area – a plain square building, the hue a faded gray as hinted at by the dark street lights that struggled to light the area, a few metal slab doors protected by a lock keypad, and a few security cameras. Had Robin been present, the video feeds would have already been downloaded onto the little hacker's computer gauntlet. The cement parking lot stretched all the way down to the sidewalk, which lead to the docks further down. It was quiet in the night, and if there was one thing Bruce didn't trust, it was a quiet Gotham. _

_As he searched the vicinity of the building with his eyes, just catching a glimpse of a hidden tree-line not too far off, he didn't see anything to dispute the Flash's theory. Actually, much too his immense displeasure and frustration, aside from the trash can he didn't see anything at all. However, one of the things that bothered him the most was how _easy_ it had been. It shouldn't have been so mind-numbingly effortless to take down their protégés. _

"_Sounds possible," Batman commented lightly, still surveying the scene. His eyes landed on the lab door. The metal slab was somehow much more sinister it seemed, now, as though it waited and laughed in the night. – almost like it knew that just beyond it, answers were lying in wait. It would have almost been intimidating. Though, Batman was hardly one to quake in the presence of fear even when he felt it. The gut-churning emotion that fleetingly pierced him the Dark Knight was not one of fear, but rather that of unadulterated anger. Not uncontrollable anger, but just enough to send the man's fists into a steady, admittedly brief, clench._

_Flash caught the Bat's gaze and he smirked, "What? Are we waiting for an invitation?"_

"_Something tells me we're not invited," Batman replied easily as he strode up towards the locked entrance of the lab. With a brief look at the lock system, he stuck on a device the same size and shape as a penny – Robin had created it a few weeks before. It instantly wiped all files from a system and shut it down immediately afterwards. It wasn't useful for hacking for information, as it only destroyed, but Batman had little interest in a lock-key pad anyway. With quick movements, Bruce opened the door and glided in._

_Flash followed close behind, resisting the urge to simply superspeed into the labs._

"_Stay alert – we're looking for either the video feeds, anyone who might be in here, and the team," Bruce warned, lightly maneuvering his way around through the dark building, taking care not to hit the corners of tables or bump into the various glass bottles and tubes scattered purposefully around the room._

"_On it Bats," Flash replied. Just as he had begun to fall into step behind the detective, he flashed a glance at one of the cracked open doors – just in time to catch a brief glimpse of movement._

* * *

><p>Dick Grayson was amazed at how uneventful days seemed now – but he was even more shocked to find how little it fazed him. His interests hadn't died away, and he often went down to the local gym to practice his athletics – though he had found his skill was far more lagging than it had appeared in the doctor's simulation; that was understandable, though, considering Robin had needed to be able to keep up with Meta's. Rather than his interests dying, it seemed, they had grown more vibrant, but in a different color. His gymnastics, though he still loved them, had become balanced with everyday things – friends, school, movies, parties, and etcetera. Most importantly, though, he was devoted to spending time with his parents.<p>

After school he would stride through the door – and for a split second, as his hand would wrap around the knob and begin to twist, he would freeze. For a moment that seemed almost out of time, even as he slowly pushed open the door, he would grow anxious with worry. For an instant – _every time_ – he was terrified that somehow he would lose them all over again.

Every time he opened the door, he would walk in a take one moment to listen for signs of life – a television, a radio, the sound of feet moving across the wooden floors, laughter, talking, breathing, _anything_. And then, when he caught it – a sneeze, movement, bits a telephone conversation, his father's voice, his mother's chuckle – he would release a breath he didn't know he had been so reverently holding. And then the moment would end.

He would be home, and his mother and father would be too.

Then the moments wouldn't come again until night, when images of his falling parents would come to haunt him. His dreams were plagued off and on by the sights, and sometimes he would wake in a pool of sweat, some small part crying a desperate question, an accusatory curiosity demanding to know why there hadn't been a net – but then he would silence his rampaging heart and be able to hear the softer sounds of his parents breathing beyond the hall. And everything would be right again.

The raven-haired boy didn't let the memories touch him as he stepped through the door after getting home from school. That part of his life was gone, brought on by heavy medication and ended with flip of the switch. After all, he had gotten his parents back – he'd escaped that hellish nightmare. He'd even gotten a handful of good friends out of the deal – especially in Wally. He'd also heard that Zatanna had an act that often toured in Gotham.

Dick missed some things of course, like angling his body just right as he swung across the sky, surveying Gotham with a watchful eye. He missed his relationship with the Bat. He missed missions, listening to Artemis and Wally bicker, Conner's spirit, Kaldur's calm and caring logic, and Megan's overly-sweet persona. He missed it, he really did.

Yet, he couldn't say he regretted it…he just couldn't.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>I return from the hiatus! But I come baring gifts – that's right! An actual mailbag! …Not to mention the update, but that was kind of a given. :) Also, I have some amazing reviewers out there who are kind enough to review past chapters they had missed – That was really amazing of them :D

**If you were confused...:** Barry made a comment last chapter I didn't explain very well – when he talked about not seeing blood, he was inferring that there was no serious injury. Which he found comforting, and put him in a better mood – not a _good_ mood, but a _better _mood. Technically speaking, no one's in a good mood. But like most speedsters, Barry deals with things by minimizing them and trying to make light of them, which explains why he is dealing with this…a lot better than he initially did.

**PS- Mailbag will be finished through PM - not complete** I'm running out of time to post this, and I want to just get this up :)

**Author's Mailbag:**

**And So It Ends:** Aww! Well, thank you! I know I've been updating less frequently, but ugh…I've just been really busy with the end of school starting to nip at my heels- along with a random patch of one-shot plot bunnies that are currently laying half-finished on my hard-drive. *sigh*

**XxNeonShadowsxX-Avia: **Of course I will let you be my Padawan – but I warn you…I have no idea how to use the force, I'm not incredibly gifted when it comes to fighting intergalactic creatures with an axe to grind (not much practice), and I have zero patience for light sabers going through the screen of my laptop. Also, Yoda I am not. In fact, I think he frowns upon my distaste for overly-complicated fighting scenes that could be simply resolved by stabbing the guy. In fact, the only thing me and the Green Bean have in common is that we are both vertically challenged. Other than that though, yes. :) Nerd Level = Infinte. And on the note of speed running – as soon as I writer's block and swallow my own laziness and finish this…ugh, this might take a while. Sorry. :/

**Celestialstarrynight:** I won't call you crazy. I mean, I hate how trigger-happy she's getting with the whole Darth Vader gag, but meh, it got the job done, so it's hard to argue with. On the other hand, I totally back Supey up if that's why he broke up with her. I mean, that's pretty disturbing. And on the issue of seeing Wally and Arty again…Let's just say I'm pretty sure people all over the world will be able to hear my fan-girl scream. In fact, if one day you're just sitting peacefully watching the episode they appear together in, and you hear this faint yelling sound – don't panic. That's just me. And you're idea isn't stupid in the slightest. I can't reveal who's behind this yet, but you'll find out soon. Very soon. :)

**GhostDog401**: Yes, I remember Psimon and how Megan pretty much turned his mind into applesauce. Ugh, seriously...the writer's should have kept that guy's hood UP at all times! Anyway, I didn't really approve of that either, but at least I saw the motive. With the little alien dude, she just kind of fried him. Which, if she were a villain, totally understandable. However, she's not. She's supposed to be a hero – there are certain things you're not allowed to do at that point. And I'm excited to see if the rumors about Bloodlines are true. I mean, my fangirl tendencies will probably go into override if they are. Also, I'm glad you liked the ending and how the Flash and Batman have two different ways of looking at things. Also, on the bleeding issue – while I usually do write speedsters bleed faster (faster metabolism = faster heartbeat = faster blood flow = equal faster bleeding = faster blood-clog = faster scarring = faster healing), I left an explanation in the other's note :)

**Irenerb: **There will be some Wally/Artemis, even though that's not the main focus of the story. I have an idea for a one/two shot featuring the two of them though…This is more of a team fic, but don't worry – I intend on a bit of Wally/Artemis bonding. :) Because I love Spitfire.

**Dextra2**: I don't mind Megan going kick-butt, I just wish she weren't so malicious. But I _totally_ never trust a perpetually happy character. EVER – Megan was too sweet, so I kind of feel justified now. So I'm in a love/hate relationship with her right now – her actions are justified, even though I think they're wrong – ugh, can't think.

**Vesta-Dragon**: Admittedly, the last chapter was just to show the team starting to accept the lifestyle and show them moving on. I'm glad you liked the Kent family – they are so cute to write for! :) And yes, Batman and Flash are VERY close. I am really glad you liked the chapter! And thank you for reviewing!

**Dreamwritergoddess: **Thank you soo much! And I'm glad you agree. I just don't want to be too negative about it because I have faith in the writer's – I still have some hope they will revive some of the magic that drew me in in the first place.

**KaliAnn:** Yes! Thaat's what I was going for. You probably know where this is going…The adults find out more in the next chapter, promise. And, yes, I'm aware of the cliffie going on with Bats and Flash. :)

(**NOTE: The rest of the mailbag WILL be PMd, because I am running out of time to post this. Sorry I posted this sooooo late. My life, finals, family – it's just really busy right now. Thank you for understanding!)**


	10. Innovation

**Chapter Ten: Innovation**

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><p>The sun was roasting the pavement as it hung dead-center in the sky. Megan's shadow fell over a small garden she was keeping in her back yard, sparse little seedlings that she'd planted only the day before looking content as the girl dribbled water from her watering-can and spilled it onto the ground. The hungry earth and parched seedlings soon sucked the water into the mud-laden depths of the fertilizer, leaving the mulch only a bit deeper brown than that water had found it. Smiling as she worked, Megan flipped some of her hair over her shoulder, and allowing her smile to grow as she noticed her skin darkening <em>naturally<em> in wake of the sun, a light tan baking her into a darker shade of peach.

She stood up, her back popping a bit as she did so, when she noticed her can was empty. She turned around, ready to go back into the house and get a refill for the second row of to-be flowers, when she felt herself wobble a bit. She stumbled to an awkward halt, the hand not carrying the watering-can instinctually flying to her temple before the other hand mimicked the motion and allowed the bucket to tumble to the ground. She herself didn't fall, but she fought hard to keep her balance. As it was she slipped the ground, having allowed herself to fold in onto her knees, curing in on herself with her hands still pressing against her head.

Her head _hurt._

Roaring pressure felt as though it was building up inside of her, not content with dwelling inside her cramped mind. It was awful, like the force wanted to crush her, like she would implode, like she would _break_. She felt the urge to run, to move, to _escape_, but in that instant nothing was making sense. The world was spinning and the ground wobbled, as if the earth had forgotten which way it was supposed to go. It was like being on the merry-go-round she and Conner had visited, only much, _much_, faster and _tons_ more disorienting. She wasn't even sure which way was up or down and that standing was an impossible feat. She felt her hands press even harder against her head, smashing against her temples as though she hope _that _would somehow stave off the ache. However, all it did was succeed in causing a more intense ache, and that made her queasy and the world more skewed.

She squeezed her eyes shut, the moving ground and spinning earth making her eyes hurt and her stomach tighten – and suddenly she wasn't in her backyard. She wasn't collapsed in her garden, her hands pressed against her temples or her knees digging into the dirt. Instead, she felt hot, like she'd just run, and she felt the urge to vomit as she splashed water against her face and looked into a mirror…or, at least she _felt_ expected a mirror – she didn't quite feel like she was _her_ right now…

_Ancient walls coated in aging gray bricks had replaced the gym room, but a second later the locker room had washed back in its proper place. _

"_Ugh, what's wrong with me?"_

Megan shook her head, the world seeming to remember that it wasn't supposed to quake and tremble beneath her feet. The pain in her head died away as suddenly as it had come, and she slowly pushed herself back up, wiping dirt from her knees and readjusting her skirt. She felt dazed, and her mind kept turning over the incident and over, inspecting it and mulling it over.

It didn't make sense – she'd never seen the locker room before, and she shouldn't have known to expect a mirror to be in front of her. She shouldn't have been shocked to see it _not_ there, and she shouldn't have been surprised to momentarily blink and find gray bricks there and then not when she blinked again. She shouldn't have felt like the images belonged not to her, but to the redhead that'd been in the simulation with her.

More importantly, she shouldn't have been seeing or feeling _anything _except for a blazing sun that burned overhead_._

Megan sighed, rubbing her forehead free of sweat before glaring at the sun.

It must have been the heat, messing with her head.

She picked her pail back off the ground, casting a glance down at the sprouts. The rest could wait another day, when the sun wasn't so hot.

Stepping into the house, she considered calling Wally and asking him…_anything_, really; but she decided against it – he'd think her crazy if she called, asking about if he'd had any strange experience in the locker room…or he'd think she was flirting. Either way, it wasn't too comforting a prospect.

So instead, Megan got herself a cup of water and pushed it from her mind.

* * *

><p><em>Crease lines wrinkled the red cowl as Flash narrowed his eyes, his gaze fastened on the door. A small pool of light tumbled out, messily illuminating the lab, washing it out in a dim light that didn't feel like light at all. Instead, it felt like a ghost of a glow, a pitifully pale reminder of what light really was. <em>

_It was hard to believe he'd seen anything at all. It could have been a trick of the light, or the lack thereof. It could have been his frayed nerves jumping out at him, his anxiousness turning shadows into villains. It could have been, but it wasn't._

"_Hey," Flash hissed quietly at Bruce, "Bats!"_

_It always took Batman by vague surprise that Flash could yell so softly, the man's voice being audible and persistently clear, but somehow still hushed, so indistinct and muted that only Batman's trained ears could have detected it without looking for it. It was a gift that was as befuddling as it was useful._

_Bruce put down a scanner he'd been employing on a side table, trying to find prints and DNA samples belonging to either the team or a possible suspect, and turned to Flash with an implied questioning stare._

_Flash jabbed his thumb in the direction of the door, a more serious expression on his face as he mouthed, "That way."_

_The Dark Knight caught sight of door and seemed to examine it a moment. Then on silent feet he glided over to stand by Flash, who'd inched towards the door and now stood with his hand reaching out for the knob. Batman stopped him, placing his gloved hand on the Flash's shoulder._

"_Trap," the Detective warned, experience lending to the man's caution. His voice echoed Barry's own skill, practice having woven the same talent into Bruce's own and allowing him to convey a roughened edge to his voice._

_Flash hesitated, but shot Batman a look before saying inaudibly, "I saw something, and this is the only place left to look."_

_Batman's frown lines deepened a bit, his eyebrows knitting together as he realized the Flash was right. He didn't find the idea of walking through an awaiting and unguarded door appealing, especially with how eerily undisturbed they'd been up to this point, but they had little choice to the contrary._

"_Carefully," Batman advised, detaching his hand from Barry's shoulder and taking a step back._

_Barry nodded quickly in consent, and the swung the door open._

_More light instantly flooded the space, and Flash ducked inside, Batman following warily behind him._

_Inside the door was a well lit lab room._

_Against the walls, black surfaced counter tops were littered with test tubes of all sizes and shapes and thickly bound textbooks were lying open on random pages. The linoleum white floor reflected back the fluorescent lights hanging from the ceiling, giving the room an oddly sterile feel, though contrasted with the gray brick-laden walls. Thick wires of every color and size were strewn untidily about the room, swept close to the wall to make leg room. _

_What was the most interesting though, and had captivated both heroes' attention, were the pods held up against the wall. _

_Seven pods were pressed up alongside the wall, wires plugged into the sides and tubes hooked up in the bouquet of wiring and cables. Hidden behind the glare of the glass lids of the pods, the Team and Zatanna were hooked up to electrodes that were pressed against their temples and lined their abdomens. Their unconscious figures were handcuffed in metal shackles, their legs locked up in a similar manner. Their eyes were squeezed tightly shut, though in Robin's case his domino mask only showed the narrowed whites to indicate his closed eyes. Masks covered their mouths, presumably pumping gas into the teens and keeping them under. They almost appeared peaceful, from the shy smile playing on Robin's face to the soft giggling that would bubble occasionally from Zatanna's mouth – well, she looked as though she were giggling, since they couldn't hear anything from inside the pods._

_It was rather disturbing, their content faces as they were chained away and locked inside experimental tubes – Wally and Conner most of all, both of whom had small grins gracing their expression; Conner hated pods, with good reason, and Wally was extremely claustrophobic. The whole picture was revoltingly wrong. The sight held both heroes in place for a moment, both slightly stunned._

_Batman was the first to shake of the shock, his already soured displeasure becoming more pronounced in his expression. Taking quick and careful steps, he took a closer step to the glass, inspecting Robin's pod carefully._

_Bruce's movement seemed to bring the jar the Flash out of his initial alarm, and he supersped up and peered into Kid Flash's pod. Flash frowned as he realized Wally's breathing was calm and even, keeping pace with the other teens'. The young speedster's heartbeat should be faster than the normal human's. And on top of that, his nephew looked _happy_ of all things…_

"_Batman," Barry called in a hush, his tone worried and stern, "Kid's breathing at the same rate as the others."_

_Batman turned from examining Robin, eyeing Barry momentarily before focusing on Kid Flash's form. Flash was right, which was unnerving. The pace was unusual._

"_Strong anesthetics…" Batman trailed thinking, "Or whatever it is that's being pumped into them. His metabolism should have burned through the gas by now, or at a minimum have developed a minor immunity. His energy is probably being diverted to other functions, or simply not there, which means his breathing could have returned to an average human's rate-"_

"_I don't care," Flash snapped, slamming his fist against his nephew's glass cell, "Let's get them out of there," the hero asserted, "We can get to the science of it all when they _aren't_ in pods,"_

_Suddenly the lights died from the room, and both heroes froze. _

_The temperature dropped twenty degrees, cold seeping into the air and moving about the darkness with ease. A sense of foreboding claimed the room. _

"_Hello, Batman," a voice hissed from the darkness. The tone was rough, dragging words along like jagged rocks against broken glass.. Yet, it was somehow slick, like a snake slithering through grass or oil oozing down a pipe._

_Bruce recognized the voice instantly._

"_Scarecrow," the Dark Knight growled angrily into the darkness._

"_It's been a long time, Batman," the voice seemed to come from everywhere at once, all corners of the room. It was a bit disorienting, "I would have thought you'd forgotten me, Dark Knight. Or does my fear still haunt your dreams?" A sick laugh fell over the space, "When you stalk the city, does your mind betray you? In Gotham, Batman, amongst all the thieves and thugs, is it still _my_ gas that keeps you awake at night?" _

"_I'm here too, you know," Flash huffed when Bruce said nothing, sounding rather offended. The question seemed to hang in the air briefly, before being whisked away by the next sound._

_Scarecrow laughed – a cold and unfeeling noise, "I know, Flash. May I say, it's been a fun challenge, treating a speedster such as your sidekick," Flash stiffened furiously at the villain's words, "And Batman, you should keep that Robin somewhere safe…the little bird belongs in a cage,"_

"_Clever," Batman interrupted, "You can think of more quips from your cell in Gotham. Come out, Crane – unless, of course, you're scared."_

_A short-lived pause hung in the air before the oily voice enveloped the lab, "Fear is a funny thing, Batman. It's dread, horror, panic…but it's not what I'm using on your precious protégés."_

_The room gave of an empty feel – an abrupt whistling sound sailing through the air._

_Batman ducked, and a scythe suddenly cutting through the air, slicing through the area Bruce's head had been previously occupying. Just as the scythe was ducking back into the darkness, Batman grabbed onto the wooden handle. In a fluid motion, he flowed into a standing position and gave the handle a strong jerk._

_The force flung Scarecrow forwards, into view. His terrifying form staggered upright. Flash stared in momentary shock at the man's broad but thin shoulders, his body shaped vaguely like a coffin and his face covered in burlap sack with jagged eye and mouth holes, revealing a cruel smile that twisted into a frown and showcased yellowing teeth. Most disturbingly though, aside from his voice, was a noose that hung limply from around his neck like death itself. The look was calculated, intentionally designed to produce fear, just as the psychologist had intended._

_Flash steeled his nerves, wishing the room wasn't drenched in darkness as he used his speed to launch himself at Scarecrow. The speedster tackled the man, slamming the two to the ground before the speedster regained balance and managed to push himself onto the villain's thin chest. Barry's knees dug into the villain's ribs and used his much stronger arms to hold the Scarecrow's own much thinner ones. A scowl blossomed across Flash's face._

"_What'd you do to them?" he asked, his face so stern and his tone so hardened it didn't sound like Barry's voice at all._

"_Wait, Flash!" Batman called, but just as Barry whipped his head around, Crane activated a small cloud of foggy green gas from a hidden release that was nestled down somewhere in his trench coat._

_Flash gagged a bit, staggering back from the scientist, his breath hitching as he gaped around the room._

_Scarecrow picked himself back up, his sickening grin back on his face, "You're lucky – that's the old stuff. It's not made for speedsters like the new formula keeping Speedy under." He told the older speedster, who didn't respond except to stand rigid, his eyes blazing around the room in horror as all of his fears came to life in the dark depths of the lab._

_Batman frowned, throwing a batarang at the distracted Scarecrow. The man tried to dodge the projectile, but the smooth blade caught the shoulder pad of his coat and flung Scarecrow into a wall, the razor-sharp edge of the batarang burying itself into the wall and slicing through a few spare wires. Electric sparks fizzled out from the disconnected tips, causing the damaged wires to dance in a chaotic manor, flinging themselves wildly against the man and the wall._

_Crane shrieked as the sparks hit him, and he instinctually lurched forward, but the batarang held him in place. His body rattled wildly, his screams just as haunting as his voice. The eerie scene wasn't helped by the fact that the crazed movements of electricity were the only lights in the room and made shadows leap erratically across the room – which probably wasn't helping Barry any with the fear gas poisoning his system. _

_Batman turned towards Flash, who was vibrating in panic where he'd been gassed. Batman felt a since of relief – the vibrations would help the Flash's metabolism eat through the gas faster, whether the speedster was aware of that or not._

"_Flash, are you lucid?" Batman asked carefully – Barry hadn't received too big a dose, and his metabolism should already be eating away at it, but he still didn't want to try and inject a cure into a panicking speedster._

"_W-Wally's…Wally's blood…_everywhere_." Flash responded quietly before shaking his head as he slowed his body down, "Geez, I hate this stuff…" he murmured._

_Glad for the speedster's fast-acting system, Bruce pulled out a needle containing the cure from his belt and slid it into the Flash's arm._

_Barry pooled to the ground, sweat dripping down from the cowl and his breathing heavy as his bones turned to jelly._

"_I-I'm fine. Give me a minute – get the kids." Flash murmured, sighing a little and wiping away the sweat from his uniform._

_Batman nodded, and returned his attention to Crane, who was slumping from the electric shock, only Bruce's batarang supporting him._

"_Now," Batman hissed to Scarecrow, shoving his face into Crane's with a menacing expression, "Wake them up," he demanded, clearly indicating the pods._

_A hollow chuckle fell breathlessly from the scientist's mouth as he raised his head and looked Batman in the eye with amusement, "But what if they don't want to?"_

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Did you guys see episode 4? DID YOU SEE WALLY? So. Many. Feels. :) This is all.

Okay, I lied, there's more – some of you may be going, "What? Scarecrow? That does even _make sense_!" – Wait until next chapter…I promise I haven't lost it.

Also, guess what? I have actually finished a complete mailbag! Whoa! This hasn't happened in forever! It's because I love you guys, and I felt really bad about the lack of replies! So here is a mailbag! :D A complete and unadulterated mailbag! YES!

**Author's Mailbag**

**KaliAnn: **Glad you liked the description of the capture. It's the first time I've written anything like that, where the action had already happened. It's fun, but different from what I'm used to. Thanks for your review – you always read so much into my writing, which is kind of what I intended for this story.

**Celestialstarrynight: **0_o You're right. From now on, Kaldur's middle name is, from now on, is Luke Skywalker. And I will always refer to Krolatean ships as Deathdtars from now on. I, unfortunately, have no more witty references to link Star Wars to Young Justice. My brain is officially fried from finals. Ugh, school…Why don't you know I have to use my brain later?

**Irenerb:** Thanks! And, by the way, I have recently started using B) smiley faces, so…yeah, you are physic. I saw you use it and I was pretty smug about it, because my friend was saying no one used that face…I'm going to rub that in her face later.

**Gaaralxluvr: **I'm glad that my story has you pumped! I hope this wasn't a letdown to all the suspense. I've written very few good fight scenes, so I hope this one did my vision justice. And I'm really rather ecstatic people like you are noticing the thought put into this. It's really comforting! By the way, I smiled really wide when you said you wait for my updates!

**Ghostdog401: **:) Glad it made sense! Also, I LOVE LOVE LOVE that you said something – I was worried I was making the heroes seem kind of heartless. I mean, you know I love overprotective mentors…but I was hesitant that doing so in this story would be OOC…Gah, you know what I mean. And yeah, characters in stories are always super observant and wary…and I don't know if it's just me, but if _I _thought I saw something for half a second, I probably would shake it off…Man, I sound oblivious in this…I'm going to stop typing now :)

**Mixxi: **Don't we all love being right? Well, I mean, there are _dances _dedicated to being right…At least, to my knowledge, I've never seen anyone break dance after being wrong…but there are some really weird people out there, sooooo…I'm going to say that most people enjoy being right. And thanks for the compliment!

**GIRL WONDER: **It gets more interesting every chapter? Well…Aren't I just all flattered right now? I'm hoping this chapter didn't drop the ball :) I Also, I wanted to thank you for all the times you've reviewed. I haven't been very good with my mailbag of late, so I just really wanted to say thank you. You're reviews are very nice and introspective, and I wanted to let you know I appreciated it.

**Dreamwritergoddess: **Thank goodness! I'm somewhat new with writing for Robin, so I'm glad it had a Robin feel to it! I mean, he's a fun and deep character to write for with lots of emotional layers that I might play with later…My to-do list grows larger every day. -_- Oh well, writing is really fun :) Thanks for your review! Ans thanks for the luck with finals!

**Vivere Libri: **Ooh, I love the thought you put into this! Okay, I hope you liked the finding of the Team, firt off! And second, I LOL'd at the way you worded your questions! Actually, Batman alerted six mentor, most of whom _are_ members of the Watchtower, and I'll bring a small mention of it later on in the story. Plus, the other mentors can trace location by the signals the communicators give off. I promise all questions will be answered by the end of this! Keep thinking like a detective! :)

**Speedylove: **Dude…I love it. That was the best ripple effect ever. And, I can totally see that conversation happening. Ever. Word. Of. It. And I laughed hard whenever Wally was like, "Logarithms. Nasty stuff" when everyone else was focused on the destruction. That was PERFECT. Legit, that was hilarious!

**Ally Marton: **Good theory, excellent even – and you're more or less right! Also, I'm sorry about your dog. It's hard to a pet or a family member, and I actually felt really sad when I read that, especially when you dreamed about him. I also love how much enthusiasm you put into the reviews! And I LOVE how much you notice! Okay, I also really hope you weren't disappointed by this chapter!

**Dextra2:** I have one constant in my stories – usually no one dies. Though, I'm thinking about writing this one one-shot…It's a work in progress. Anyway, thanks for your review :)

**Lilmissfashionista:** Geez, I missed your reviews, LOL! Sorry it took me a bit to update! And I _know_. Okay, Clark and Conner shouldn't be _brothers_ – no. That's weird. It's, in my opinon, a father-son relationship and that's how it should be. But, hey, this is my fic and if I want to make illusion-Clark a daddy, then hey – he can put on his big-boy boxers and be a man! Sorry – they just broke my head-cannon and I'm sad…Oh well. And I'm super happy you liked the Zatanna/Giovanni part! They're fun to write for! And the Artemis/Roy relationship! :) I also love your little spellings – they make my day – "MOAR WALLY" That's exactly how I feel when I see him. Did you see episode four? Wally's not a hero now And Artemis and him LIVE TOGETHER? I want to see how that happened! And you're right BB is totally playing Wally – not okay. And your right – they are mini versions of my babies! And your theories were right! LOL! I'll keep an eye out for it and thanks for your review!

**Vesta Dragon: **Ugh, I'm not very good at staying back, am I? I'm trying hard – it's just SO MUCH stuff going on with me right now it's hard to get enough time to just sit down and get this done – when summer rolls around I'll have more time for this (hopefully I didn't just jinx myself)! Glad you're liking this!

**S.S Pie: **Hmm, that might be helping – it's his metabolism fighting off the gas and...you'll see later. But the injury with his head probably isn't helping too much, wouldn't you say? I hope you liked that the Team has been found. Not rescued or anything – but found. That's something at least! It only took, what, ten chapters? X) And you and the others are completely and totally right about poor Dick… :'(

**Violet Eternity: **Ooh, pretty name. I'm really happy that you liked this story AND reviewed! It makes writing fun, really! Also, it's good to know other people actually read the story, which makes my days ten times better!

**XAsClicheAsItCanBe: **I'm thrilled that you're noticing that hints have been appearing throughout the story! All (or most) of them will be explained, but props to you for picking them up and using them! That takes a keen eye! Also, I'm flattered that you think I could write for the show. Truth be told, if I were writing the show, we'd probably have never heard of the five year time skip..or if we had, the Team would still have the original Six + occasional Zatanna help.

**Kandy Kalor:** Is a weird blue bar appearing on the review button? That's what's been happening to me! Maybe FanFiction is conspiring against us? Ugh, whatever…And I don't mind getting used to you liking the story – writing is so much more worth it when others appreciate the time and effort! And YES, I can WIRTE! That means a ton to me :) And I'm the same way – when Wally is written right, I pretty much love it, no matter what! And no, it's probably not creepy to read the responses. Plus, high five for the psit-fire in episode four! I finally saw my baby! And he's all grown up and awesome! I want to give him a hug! Oh, it was just kind of awesome. And thanks! You're just as awesome!

_**And So It Ends**_**: **Ooh, I couldn't wait to pos this chapter! And I'm actually really pumped I finished a complete mailbag! Man, I am so thrilled to have finally reached this part! :D

**Eternal mist: **Oh, yeah...I can't promise I'll make anyone cry…but have a tissue box waiting. There will be sadness. You'll see, when I get there – ugh, not telling is hard.

**Qweerlittlefish: **I'm so pumped that you enjoyed the structure of the chapter – and _whoa _is that a LOT of "great"s! :D YES! That totally made me smile! Thanks for the review – and the others! You're a really kind reviewer!

XxNeonShadowxX: Dear Adian and Avia: You guys are so awesone! One (mostly both :) ) Review every chapter and that's super nice of the two of you! Plus you are super complimentary when you review! And I didn't leave you guys hanging for long with the Batman/Flash thing! Tried to jump in as soon as possible! Plus, at the very end of the review in chapter nine, I seriously can't stress how awesome that was. Seriously – that is awesome! :) Thanks to the both of you for being so awesome!

**Adoglover5: **I run, and I'm glaf I got the description down pat. Do you run too? Isn't it fun? The officials yelled at you for putting your hands on your knees? Whoa, were you in state or some major competition or something? And man, I wanted to hug Dick too…and I'm _writing_ this. I need more Wally and Dick bro time, I just realized.

**Alamodie: **Hey! First off, I want to thank you for reading this! Second off, I wanted to thank you for reviewing it! I'm glad to know you liked it! :) And I love the way you worded it – psychological trauma. Sophisticated, accurate – perfect! Thank you so much!


	11. Fear

**Chapter Eleven: Fear**

* * *

><p><em>Batman's fists tightened, clenching the Scarecrow's raggedy trench coat tightly in his hands. He yanked the man forward, a satisfying yelp howling from Crane's trench coat as the batarang sliced through the material and left the shoulder pad hanging limply against the wall. Bruce paid the split little attention, hoisting the Scarecrow's tattered mask to his own face, his lip curling and showing his upper canines as he growled out in a low snarl, "What do you mean, Crane?"<em>

_Despite his weakened state, regardless of the electric shocks that had frayed his coat and the punches that had crinkled his already shabby burlap mask, the haunting figure wheezed out a raspy cough that whistled through his throat like cold winds through fields of dry hay before he replied, "Are you trying to intimidate me, Batman?" he scratched out with amusement layering his voice, a mangled smile showing off a mouth void of any feature aside from glistening blackened yellow teeth, "Are you trying to frighten the master of fear himself?"_

_Bruce gritted his teeth as his reply, his hold on Scarecrow growing tighter and his expression more severe. The dark room blended in with his costume, making it nearly impossible to tell where the cape of the Dark Knight ended or began. Through narrowed eyes that bore down on Crane with a dare sparkling in their depths, Batman said nothing. _

_Unfazed, Crane wrapped his long bony fingers around Batman's forearm, wiggling a bit in the man's grip before seeming to adjust himself into a more comfortable position for breathing, a handful of hissing chortles falling from his mouth, "Ah, you are trying to scare me – ironic isn't?" Crane mused slowly, his voice drawn out and mangled like he spoke with oily sandpaper in his mouth, "But that's what we do Batman – we are alike in this way, are we not? Both of us stalk Gotham; haunt both the waking and sleeping hours of our foes. You strike fear into the hearts of men, as do I. And why? And why, Dark Knight?" his voice jeered, a intriguingly soft hush as he asked, " Because we both know how strong an emotion it is, how useful and how destructive it can become," Crane let out a horrid chuckle as he pretended not to notice the still anger reverberating from Bruce._

"_I will not ask again," Batman grounded out, his tone cold as steal and twice as unyielding. _

"_Nor will you need to," Crane assured, his tone as old as time itself and low as the chime from a grandfather clock. He leaned his face forward, within inches of Bruce's and tightened his hold on the man's forearm. His breath was rotten with decay, his eyes glittering black as he called softly in a hushed tone, "What are we afraid of, Batman?" he smiled a grimy grin, "Those who don't know fear will give all kinds of answers. But I and you know different. Everyone is afraid, Batman, of the same thing. Everyone is afraid of truth."_

"_Explain." Batman demanded coldly, slamming Crane up against the wall, listening to the man's figure collide with the gray bricks with a thud._

"_I gave them what they wanted Batman. Is that so wrong? Am I so evil?" Scarecrow hummed in a low greasy way, rolling his head in the direction of the pods and nodding at Bruce, "Your prized little heroes have exactly what they want, what they were always afraid to hope for," Crane paused, before saying with cold and mocking grin, "So wake them then, Dark Knight – for you will only bring them back into a world of disappointment; send them back here, Batman, and know they will never be as happy as they are now."_

_Batman threw Crane back against the wall again, growling out in frustration as he did it once more – hating the hollow laugh that coldly filled the room each time, Crane's casket like body slamming into the bricks but showing no signs of pain other than a brief grimace when he made contact. After the second time he smashed the scientist into the wall, Bruce breathed a last heavy breath through his nose, a sound of disgust, and dropped Scarecrow to the ground. The man fell like a forgotten ragdoll to the floor, his long limbs sprawling loosely to the ground. Slowly, he curled in on himself, a sick wheezing noise escaping him – Batman thought he may have been trying to still laugh, withstanding the pain that must have been seizing his body._

_Crane's head had turned up to face the Bat, his unflinching and unfeeling smile cruelly smeared into a mangled grin before he coughed one more time and asked in a rough voice, "I wonder, Batman, what your Robin sees? " Scarecrow's demented delight seemed to grow as Bruce went rigid, "Surely not Gotham, after all; not this life. So what is it, great detective, which the Boy Wonder sees when he's not afraid to dream?" the man seemed to taste the words on his tongue before letting them go, dropping each one like a grenade._

_Bruce stiffened at the remark, remembering the beam on Dick's face from behind the glass pod – he knew exactly what the boy was seeing, _who_ the boy was seeing. Scarecrow had said everyone was afraid of the truth, and mentioned giving the Team what they'd always been afraid to hope for. Understanding in Crane's words pierced him like an arrow – Scarecrow's twisted logic had given the sidekicks a reality they would be afraid to lose, a perfect world – a lying truth. And Robin was seeing his parents; a family he would never get to have._

_Before either Batman could respond or Scarecrow could blink, a flash of red had picked up Crane, reintroducing the man's back to the gray bricks for the fourth time, this time the force so unexpected and fast that it knocked the breath from Scarecrow and caused the villain's sight to darken and turn his bones to jelly as he lost consciousness, his head lolling to the side, sagging over his noose._

"_Lights out," Flash murmured, a slight anger in his voice as he allowed the man to slump to the floor. Barry stepped over his dropped figure, cracking his knuckles as he made his way over to Bruce._

"_Speaking of lights – let's get them back on. Something about this place gives me the creeps."_

"_I see the cure took effect." Batman noted, catching the lack of alarm in the speedster's demeanor. He kept his face straight, but Bruce managed to crack a thin smirk in the Flash's direction. _

_Flash nodded before feeling along the wall at superspeed and locating a light switch that he quickly flipped on, "Yeah," he said, returning to Batman's side almost faster than the instant light that flooded the room._

"_I heard what Crane said," Barry added, flicking a look at the teens, "The kids are living in their perfect world. That's why they're so..._happy_ looking."_

"_I know." Batman sighed, his eyes falling onto Robin. The teen's smile was clearly spread across his face, small and shy like he'd won the lottery and couldn't believe it was real. Blissfully unaware of his true surroundings, the boy was...pleased. A small part of Bruce broke. He would obviously wake them up, but it'd hurt Robin – it'd hurt _Dick_ – to open his eyes back to reality. _

_He cursed Scarecrow, who'd taken his fear and warped it in horrible ways – he'd made the real world the nightmare, and even Bruce couldn't create a cure for reality. He couldn't replace a mother's touch or a father's embrace; even if he'd come to think of Robin as his son, he couldn't bridge a gap of that magnitude. Not for lack of effort, though, not because Dick was unwilling – but Bruce knew that pain. Alfred had become his father much like Batman imagined himself to be to Robin, and had even come to love Alfred like a father – that hadn't wiped his dad from Bruce's heart, hadn't made up for his mother's love. It wouldn't for Dick, either. Crane had opened scars that'd never heal. And that was just Robin – what did the other seven see? What wounds had been uncovered just to bleed again? There was no antidote for heartbreak._

"_Come on," Batman said stiffly, gliding over to the pods, "We have work to do,"_

_Flash nodded, rushing up to his nephew's pod and examining a few wires linked into the machine, probing them delicately in his hands and trying to figure out what did what. After a minute or so of eyeballing the mess of cords and loose wiring, he looked over to see Bruce doing the same with Robin's. The detective was kneeling by Robin's pod, and had pulled out a device that functioned similarly to the Boy Wonder's glove and plugged it into some of the wiring. He was clicking away at a holographic keyboard, multiple windows were pulled up at once, and his face had been claimed by a contemplative expression. _

"_Any luck, Bats?" Flash asked, shooting a look at Wally. The redhead's chest was moving up and down at a deep and even pace – much too much slowly. Flash briefly considered vibrating his molecules through the glass and pulling his nephew out, but his thoughts were interrupted by Bruce._

"_The pods should be opening in a few seconds," Batman informed the older speedster, who stepped back from Kid's pod as a lulling whir pulsated throughout machines and the glass walls slid down. It only took moments, but somehow time seemed to drag on as the pods' glass walls slithered away. The floor appeared to swallow the glass, and then the barriers were gone._

_Employing his superspeed, Flash was the first to move, his body unfolding like a loaded spring._

_He zoomed up to Kid Flash, hardly pausing as he detached the handcuffs from around Wally's wrists and then unhinged the shackles around his feet as well. He caught his nephew's body just as it started to fall forwards, electrodes snapping off of his body and away from his temples, leaving his costume and skin free from any evidence of his previous containment. As his nephew had fallen forwards, Barry had caught sight of a faint bruise near the base of Wally's skull from where the trash can had hit him. Worry lit up his senses like fire does to dry leaves – not because of the wound, but because it should have been healed by now._

"_Wally, how are you-" Flash began, turning the boy forwards in his hands only to stop when he caught sight of the boy's still dreamy expression. Wally's eyes were still tightly shut and a grin still tugged at the corners of his lips._

"_Kid, wake up." Flash said carefully, shaking Wally's shoulder's a bit. Kid's head rocked back and forth a bit from the motion, but didn't stir. Carefully, Flash lifted one of Wally's eyelids, peering down at them. His irises didn't shrink in response to the light, and they were glazed over, seeing something aside from his uncle's face as worry and shock sprawled across it and overtook his previously relived smile._

"_Batman," Flash said urgently, "He's not waking up."_

"_None of them are," Batman replied, holding Robin in his arms, a wistful smile gracing the boy's features. _

* * *

><p>Artemis stretched as she woke up, mildly surprised to find herself back in her room, sprawled out over her bed. The soft sheets were unceremoniously dumped on top of her, and as she propped herself up on her elbows, she found the pillow had been messily shoved under her head – which meant only a corner of it had managed to wedge itself under her.<p>

Searching her mind for what had happened the night before, Artemis threw the green comforter off of her and slung her legs over the bed, working out the stiffness in her limbs as she yawned and swiped her hair from out of her eyes. She found she was still in her clothes, and with a start memory flooded over her – she'd snuck out and gone to Gotham to see her mom's apartment and had found a decayed building in its place. Artemis felt bile rise up in her mouth, but swallowed it when she thought of Roy. The older archer had followed her, found her crying and broken down, and instead of belittling her for her disbelief and foolish hope, he'd comforted her. He'd shared his past, his pain, and his hurt instead of ridiculing her own. His mistrusting and arrogant demeanor had melted away, and she'd caught sight of a part of Roy that felt like an older brother instead of a rival. And maybe he was – after all, they'd been adopted by the same people. Artemis shook her head and quickly got dressed, pulling on a pair of jeans and tank top before exiting the room, wrapping her blonde hair into a quick ponytail as she went.

She walked down the hallway, keeping an eye out for Roy so she could thank him. As she traveled down the hallway, she saw Roy's door cracked open and figured he must be awake. When she peered into his room though, she found that he was asleep on his bed, his legs hanging off the end of it and his arms messily strewn about. She rolled her eyes when she found he hadn't even bothered to get under his covers, and had just thrown on some pajama pants and taken off his shirt before collapsing on his bed. She even smiled a bit when she heard the older archer let out a snore that was possibly louder than a chainsaw – she'd never figured Roy as one to snore. Trying not to snort herself, Artemis carefully shut the door, a hushed little _click_ squeaking out as she did so.

"He's as bad Oliver – and they're not even related. I swear, they are going to wake up the neighbors one day," an amused voice commented from behind her, and Artemis turned to see Black Canary – _Dinah_ – standing behind her, dressed in a tight sports jersey and jeans, her arms crossed over her chest with an affectionate smile on her face, "I'm glad you're an early riser like me though – want to make breakfast?" the blonde asked.

"Uh, sure." Artemis shrugged, and she followed Dinah into the kitchen.

"You remember what we need to make pancakes, right?" Dinah asked as they walked into the kitchen, ducking under the counter and pulling out a box of pancake mix.

Artemis started to shake her head before she found herself nodding, "Yeah." She answered, and she walked over to the fridge, starting to pull out ingredients and line them up on the counter.

"I thought so," Dinah smiled, and she set a bowl out and went to stand over by Artemis. Both of them started working on the batter, slipping into small talk about school and things. Just as Artemis started to fall into rhythm with cooking and talking, Dinah paused and took a deep breath.

"Artemis, I know that the simulation that the doctor's put you guys through was hard on you and Roy. Last night at the table, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, and I'm very sorry-"

"No," Artemis interrupted, eyeing Dinah, "_I'm_ sorry," Artemis took a breath, not sure what else she had to say but knowing there was still so much left unsaid, "…I just – In the simulation I was in, my mother was still alive. She'd just been paralyzed in an accident, but she hadn't been – she wasn't –" Artemis stopped, weakly stirring the batter around in the bowl, no longer to meet Dinah's eyes, "I miss her."

"Oh, Artemis…" the older woman murmured, a look of sympathy crawling into her expression.

Before she even knew what was going on, she felt Dinah's arms wrap around her shoulders and pull Artemis into a hug. The younger archer felt herself stiffen at first, unused to ever being hugged by anyone aside from her mother, but then relaxed into the hold before she returned it. She felt weak tears fall from her eyes and slide down her cheeks, but she fought them off and they stopped before she could have called it crying.

"You know," Dinah said slowly, forcing Artemis to look her in the eyes by unwrapping herself from the hug, her baby blue eyes warm and carrying as they stared into gray ones, "I know I'm not your mother, and I won't ask you to think of me that way, but I've always thought of you as my daughter."

Artemis stared back, letting silence envelope the room for a minute before she replied, "Maybe one day I will too," She said softly, an echo of a smile playing on her lips.

Dinah reached up and brushed off Artemis's few tears off her cheek before smiling and giving her hands a small clap.

"Well, that was a bit emotional for this early in the morning. Come on and let's hurry up with the pancakes – the boys will wake up soon, and Ollie wants to take you two to the archery range." Dinah murmured, and started pouring pancakes onto a griddle that she'd gotten out earlier.

"Sounds fun." Artemis agreed.

Thirty minutes later she heard a thump and suddenly Roy's voice drifted into the air, muttering a light curse before he shouted, "Stepped on a lego! I don't even _own_ legos!"

Artemis and Dinah shot each other a hushed smile and whiles they quieted thier giggles. Artemis suddenly felt a closeness to everyone that she hadn't ever had before – so that's what it was like to be part of a real family. She could used to that.

Maybe she already had.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Okay, my internet is fuzzy – it's turning off and on and I can't say when I'll be able to update. I'll try to as often as I can, whenever I have a new chapter and the internet is working again! Thank you for the marvelous reviews! You guys are seriously some of the best reviews I've ever had!


	12. Truth

**Chapter Twelve: Truth**

* * *

><p><em>The smiles were the worst part. So content and innocent, occupying the places they didn't belong, stretched across their protégés faces. They were intruders, treacherous invaders, deceitful trespassers that were residing in places they weren't welcome. Flash hated them, loathed their very existence. They were wrong. They had no place there, no grounds for even existing.<em>

_Flash carefully uncooked Artemis from her pod, snapping the electrodes from her skin and disengaging the locks around her wrists and ankles. He was unused to the wistful smile that had claimed the archer's expression – it was too soft and sweet; it made her look young and vulnerable as though she were a small child. The characteristic smirk and occasionally spiteful scowl were gone, as though a stranger was wearing her face. Had Artemis been conscious, Flash could easily have seen her marching up to Crane and shoving her arrows into some very uncomfortable places – she would be furious to see that dopey grin playing on her face, that vulnerable happiness tugging upwards on her lips. However, just like the others, her beaming expression didn't falter when he freed her from the pod, or even when he gently set her next to Roy. If it was possible, his overly content expression was even out of place than Artemis's. Even when Roy had been younger, he had only smiled on rare occasions, and never as wide as he was now. The older speedster hastily scanned the eight teens, his stomach twisting as he quickly found each and every smile – each one as nauseatingly, repulsively, horribly pleased as the last._

_They were all so happy. They were so unbelievably pleased, having everything they wanted and needed – and now the League was going to take it all away._

_Saving himself from his careful examination of the sidekicks – Wally's syrupy-sweet grin in particular – he turned his attention to Batman. The Dark Knight was hunched over Scarecrow, binding the villain up with some of the wires and cables that Flash had removed while freeing their protégés from the pods. Judging from Crane's limp limbs and unusually compliant demeanor, Barry could tell the man was still unconscious. Batman finished the bindings up with a forceful double-knot, standing up and catching Flash's glance._

_"So, Bats…" Barry flicked his eyes around the room, indicating everything that had just gone on, "I think we should call the League right about now."_

_Batman nodded, taking his gloved hand and going for a head piece inserted in the horns of his cowl, "Batman to Green Arrow, Martian Manhunter, and Aquaman – priority alert."_

_Within seconds, muffled static entered Flash's own communicator as his feed was patched in with Batman's and connecting with the rest of the League's._

_Green Arrow was the first to respond, static mumbling in Batman's ear before catching hold of Ollie's voice, "You found them?" the archer asked hopefully once the line had cleared of all white-noise._

_"Yes," Batman answered, "But there are complications." He inserted quickly, trying to kill Arrow's hope before it took hold of his heart._

_It worked, and Green Arrow audibly sighed, "Of course. Because nothing is ever easy, is it?"_

_"No," Bruce replied solemnly as he flicked a look at Robin, "Nothing ever is. Can you trace my coordinates?"_

_A brief pause allowed a torrent of static to erupt into the air momentarily before Green Arrow replied, "My GPS system is tacking our feed – I can totally find your coordinates. Seriously though? You're in Gotham – all we really need to do is find an old building near a dock."_

_"That is a trite assumption, Arrow," Manhunter intoned, "A rash stereotype. Now, Batman," the Martian addressed Bruce, "What are the complications you mentioned?"_

_"Crane introduced a new strain of Fear Gas into the Team's systems, along with Red Arrow and Zatanna-"_

_"I was not aware of Zatanna's presence," John murmured in monotone, his voice curious for an explanation._

_"Though Zatanna is not yet an official member of the Team, she has taken up residence in the Mountain because of her father's new circumstances. While she was not authorized for this mission, she appears to have disregarded her inactive status, and because there were no formal rules made against it, I assume the Team 'kidnapped' her once again."_

_The silence that followed was short, but the fleeting seconds were heavy with solemnity and thick with discomfort – no one was comfortable with Dr. Fate's negotiation tactics._

_"I see." John replied, "Continue. You mentioned Fear Gas?"_

_"Fear Gas?" Aquaman inquired._

_"It targets your brain," Flash supplied, "Makes you see what you fear most – nasty stuff," Barry visibly shuddered, obviously remembering his own experience, "But the stuff they're on is more like Happy Gas."_

_"Meaning?" Oliver asked, his tone clearly illustrating that he just wanted to get to the point – Bruce noted that his worry was clouding his usually relaxed persona._

_"The gas in their systems is giving them very realistic hallucinations targeting their hopes and desires – if we understand correctly, they are experiencing their perfect world." Batman summarized, "We have removed the source of the gas, a breathing tube covering their mouths, but that had little effect."_

_"More like 'no effect'. We think the Happy Gas triggered a negative – er, positive, whatever – reaction in their brains. The removal of the supply of gas didn't jar them out of it."_

_"They're brains have accepted the reality the gas released," Batman finished, "So they're not waking up."_

_"And," Flash added, his hyper accelerated thinking kicking in, "If they remain like this much longer, they'll slip into comas – and then their bodies will start to shut down – and then…" he didn't finish, the full realization impacting him like a car at full speed. If the Team didn't wake up soon, they never would._

_Silence enveloped the conversation before Batman reentered._

_"That won't be happening. Arrow, have you found my coordinates?" Batman asked moments after Flash had finished his explanation._

_"Yes – and J'onn, one guess on what kind of building they're at."_

_The Martian inaudibly sighed – it was probably an old building, near a dock of some sort; obviously proving Arrow's point._

_"Good," Batman ignored Arrow's last sentence, "Manhunter, how soon would you say you can get here?"_

_"You need me to go into their minds to retrieve them?"_

_"Yes."_

_"I'll be on my way soon. Forty minutes."_

_The communicators went silent._

_Flash and Batman both sent a glance behind them, to the teen's lined up carefully against the wall, their breathing even and deep, with content intruding smiles heaved upon their faces._

* * *

><p>It'd been a long time since Wally had been able to ask where the time had gone. As a speedster, he always knew exactly when and where and how every minute of every day had been spent. Every second had seemed to drag on for eternity, each moment so agonizingly slow, as if time moved through molasses.<p>

It was so nice to have a minute be sixty seconds, to have a second be sixty milliseconds. It was wonderful to lose track of time, to gaze up at the sky that had once been filled with sun and see a night full of stars. Everyone else took it for granted, that time would move at the perfect pace for them. They expected it. No person who wasn't a speedster could possibly hope to relate to it, could possibly wrap their minds around the idea of slowing everything down for a world that would never function fast enough for them. And how could they? How could they understand that torture?

How could they know what it was like to always be hungry? To always be waiting for something to happen? They had never felt like a coiled spring ready to pounce, every moment stretching on like the suspense scene in horror movies. They couldn't have possibly hoped to understand.

Robin had understood as best he could – but even his best friend would never completely be aware of how hard it was. How he couldn't help how impulsive or rash he'd seemed – and how could he not have been? How could he not react in a world like that? How could he not be excited by the fact that something was happening? How could he be expected to wait?

Wally shook his head – that didn't matter now. It hadn't been real. That world, his speed – it hadn't happened.

"Something on your mind, kid?" Barry asked, a smile in his voice – that carefree and caring tone and that relaxed attitude.

Wally stretched, "Huh?" he asked, looking around the room – oh, right. He, Barry, and Iris were squished together on the coach, the television screen lighting up the darkened room and flashing with scenes from the movie. He'd totally zoned out – he smiled briefly, noting once again he'd been allowed to lose track of time, "Oh, no. Nothing really – I just spaced. What'd I miss?"

"His wife is the killer," Barry informed him, and Wally nodded even if he didn't know what Barry was talking about at all – man, he really hadn't been paying attention.

"Knew it." Wally stated breezily, and Barry chuckled.

"Right, of course you did." His uncle said with sarcastic warmth.

Wally rolled his eyes and leaned forward, pulling a bowl of popcorn of the coffee table in front of him. He tossed a few pieces into his mouth before relaxing back against the coach – popcorn tasted fantastic. It was a bit buttery – something he'd never been able to notice before – but absolutely fantastic.

* * *

><p>The bright lights danced across the circus tent's red and white canvas walls, and the recognizable smell of popcorn, elephant, fire, gunpowder, and sweat flooded his senses. Laughing people and cheering crowds echoed from the stands. Light-up swords and glow sticks lit up crowd like flares as the lights died down, indicating the show would start in just ten minutes.<p>

Robin's heart wrenched, his stomach churned, and he wasn't sure if he'd be able to handle this. His heart rate increased – he could do this. It was just a tent. His parents were alive. There wasn't anything major about this. Nothing.

He could do this.

But then, he could see them falling – his mother's pleading eyes, her hands reaching up to him ever though he'd never be able to grab hold. He could visualize his father – his big and strong father – hitting the ground, not moving. He could felt sick, feel the blood draining from his face – his stomach lurched, and sweat threatened to start beading down his forehead.

"You okay, sweetie?"

Dick felt his mother's hand land gently on his shoulder, and he turned his head, catching her warm brown eyes sparkling; for a flash of second, he pictured them glossy, and he nearly lost his lunch. He got control of himself though, taking an unnoticeable deep breath and shaking the image off – his mother was back to normal, the dim lights barely skimming over her delicately caring features.

"Me? Oh, absolutely." Dick muttered, catching the knowing look in his parents' eyes. They knew him too well, recognized his subtle discontent.

He glanced upwards, his eyes trained on the acrobatic platforms hanging above, the trapeze.

He would have asked why they were visiting the circus if he hadn't already known, but he did. His mother and father were visiting family here, and they had come early to see their act for old time's sake. Of course, he already knew the name of the performance, but he had still shuddered a bit when his parents had happily announced they'd be taking him to see the Flying Graysons.

He'd almost told them right then. With his mother's worried eyed focused on him, his father's gaze zeroed in on his son's pale face, both searching for explanation – but he didn't. How could he? If he couldn't have mustered up the courage to explain to them before, how could he do it now, when they were here?

"You don't look fine. If you're feeling sick, we could just go home…" his father drawled, considerately thinking out how it would work as he eyed the exits.

"No!" Dick whispered fiercely, trying not to startle the rest of the people sitting by them in the audience, "This means a lot to you guys. And I want to see the family. I'll get over it."

Mary and John exchanged a quick knowing look before turning to Dick and nodding in understanding, "We can leave if you want to," his mother said gently, his father quickly adding, "Yeah, don't stay because you feel it's an obligation."

But it was, wasn't it? He had to stay, to face this down – to prove to himself that Robin had only ever been a nickname, to verify that that night on the high-wire had been a stupid false memory induced by heavy medication.

"Guys, I'm fine," he promised, fitting in a smile on his face, even though the darkened lights made it nearly imperceptible. He would obviously be fine – he just had to keep in mind that…that nothing had happened here. There was no reason to be upset.

It'd be fine. He should just get over this. But – it was just so hard. He couldn't just push those bloody images out of his mind, couldn't erase those memories. There were things that you just couldn't simply un-see. They were locked in his mind, those vacant brown eyes, those unmoving bodies, those lines snapping from the hooks – those screams. Those terrible, awful, heart-wrenching screams. The flat thud of lifeless bodies smacking against the ground. His name, half-formed, dying on his mother's tongue, the light fading from his father's eyes.

Those scenes would never leave him; he could feel them like a scar that had marred his brain, burned into his mind.

"I'm fine." Dick repeated, admittedly more to himself than to his parents.

"Well, okay." His father agreed.

"If you feel the slightest bit sick…" his mother trailed.

"Mary, he said he's fine. I'll keep an eye on him – hey, son, popcorn?" his father asked, offering Dick a bag.

He nodded, grabbing a handful from the bag and popping a single piece into his mouth – it was oddly familiar, and he realized it was a memory from the simulation, the too-salty popcorn from Haley's Circus. He shrugged off the twist in his stomach, quickly downing the whole handful.

"Thanks," Dick whispered, but finally a spotlight was being turned to the stage, and Dick let out a genuine smile as Mr. Haley enfettered in the center ring.

"Hello, ladies and gentlemen!" he called to the crowd, taking a sweeping bow.

The audience roared, excitement building up rapidly – little kids started waving their glowsticks with enthusiasm and adults were displaying amused grins.

"Thank you, thank you – we have an exciting night ahead of us, a lot planned!" Mr. Haley addressed the crowd. He waited for more hoots and hollers to die down before continuing.

"Normally, we here at Hayley's save the best for last," his voice boomed.

Dick squirmed in his seat. Now? They were on now? He took a deep breath, killing the anxiety that was trying to overtake him. He could totally do this.

"However," the ringmaster announced, giving this thick mustache a twirl, "I would like you to put your hands together for…The Fly Graysons!"

The spotlight darted off of Hayley and made a beeline for the top the high-wire. Standing on the highest platform, Dick bit his lip as he saw his whole family from the circus standing up there, waving to the animated crowd below. Some blew kisses, others took bows, waved, displayed small feats of flexibility – like one of his aunts putting her foot behind her head, using one hand to wave to a few of the audience members who clapped and whistled as she once again lowered her leg. Dick felt sweat grow in his palms, but he shook it off – he could so do this. His parents weren't even up there.

"This family has been doing acrobatics for generations, making them completely at home in the air!" Haley raved, "Their acrobatics are world-renowned, and ladies and gentlemen, you will see them perform tonight – without the safety of a net!"

He'd be fine. He'd be totally fine.

And he was.

Nothing happened, nothing went wrong. He watched his family leap through the air, dance on thin wires, twist and turn like they owned the sky, as if they dared gravity to reclaim them. They were poetry in motion, graceful and weightless as the flipped and flew from bar to bar. It was stunning, thrilling, daring – it was art, a picture being painted with actions. It was music without sound, a story without words – it was the most mesmerizing thing he'd ever witnessed. The way his relatives owned the stage, the way they moved, the grace and precision that followed their every step – he couldn't describe it, couldn't justify their actions with any word of any language. It simply was.

For a split second, he wondered if that's what he and his parents had looked like together. Had they flown through the air with such command? Had they elegantly swooped and dived through the air like that? Had their audience been as captivated by them as he was with his family?

Before these questions could run away with him, he banished them from his mind – no, they hadn't. Because Mary and John Grayson had left the circus to raise their kid. And now they were just visiting their family, not their death place.

The act ended with an eruption of approval from the crowd, claps and cheers so loud and distinct Dick couldn't hear his own applause or shouts leave his mouth. His ears were still ringing even when the noise had died away and the people seated themselves, waiting for the next act and excitedly murmuring about the Flying Graysons.

"So, son – you seem to be feeling better." His father rumbled warmly, and Dick felt his father wrap one arm around his shoulder and give him a quick squeeze.

"Must have been a stomach thing – I feel fine now." The raven-haired boy replied giving his a smile.

Blatant lies, of course – his stomach felt fine, if a bit upset from the saltiness in the popcorn. But he did feel better. He was hit with a wave of relief, and as he glanced to view his parents, both on either side of him, and he felt a flood of happiness wash over him.

He loved them. He loved them so much it hurt, and he'd missed them so badly. He'd missed just hanging out with them, having breakfasts together, listening to his mother hum and his father whistle as they went about their day. He'd missed his father's familiar blue eyes, the ones that so closely mirrored his own. He'd longed to hear them again, to see them, to touch them – to talk with them. Losing them had been like having his legs kicked out from under him and his heart ripped out. He'd spent so many days and countless nights starring up at the sky, just praying that somehow, someway, they could see him, that they were proud of him.

And now…now they were here.

Nothing else seemed to matter.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: I finished this chapter and my internet is working :D I will try to answer the mailbag through PM later today because I plan on being at a hotspot! Sorry for this taking so long! Also, really you guys; the reviews have meant a lot.<strong>

Also, looking for some good reads? I would highly suggest **Shattered Pieces**by JadeBrcin2116and **Possession **by Ally Marton and **Breaking Speed** by Adoglover5. They are wonderful Wally-Whump stories that have captivated my attention. Check them out, along with **Fears** by Ghostdog401. All are just so wonderful! I fangirl every time I see an update. So much win.

**Mailbag:**

**TO ALL:**

So, you guys, as you can see I picked a cover. But I'm not too attached to it. So, ideas? Suggestions are welcome. If you have idea or any opinion, even if it's an "I like it!" or "Eh, it's alright" or even "Dude, what were you thinking?" I want to know what you think.

**Ghostdog401:**There is no greater pain in this world, in my opinion, than stepping on legos. I mean, seriously. Have you ever just been walking around at night, perfectly fine, and then BAM – instant stabbing pain ripping up your verve endings. It's even worse because it sounds so pathetic. It's like flushing your dignity down a toilet. Ugh. And you know, feel free to smile about the torture. I for one admit that torture fics are probably my favorite thing on this planet.

**Gaaraxulvr: **X) I do have something planned, and though I won't just go right out and say it (because that would ruin a story pretty darn quick), I will go ahead and say this: it's a mix between your two ideas. In what way, I'm not going to tell you. But I understand what you are wanting and I am very much on your side. I hope you like it – you'll see more next chapter (which sounds obvious, I realize, LOL).

**Violet Eternity:** I promise that I'm not a bad person, truly – that being said, I have this inexplicable need to emotionally (and sometimes physically) torture my favorite characters. I'm really glad you like this story though! Thank you so much for reviewing!

**Vivere Libri: **LOL, you know, once you mentioned it, I just had to put in a little Artemis and Dinah moment. They work so well together, and it just has such a potential t really great relationship, and since we'll probably never see it on the show, I just wanted that little moment to show that. And thank you for saying so about the whole 'understanding human nature' thing – that was really awesome. And as much as I write for myself, I also write for the enjoyment of others, you know? So honestly, your compliments are really nice and sweet and make me feel accomplished in what I do. Thanks!

**Skyfallendreams:** Batman and Flash are possibly my favorite team – Barry's personality and Bruce's attitude are so vastly different and their relationship is so uniquely defined that it's fun to write for. Batman isn't exactly known for his optimism, and he sometimes views Barry as impulsive (What? A speedster impulsive and rash? NEVER) and reckless, but he's also one of the few characters that will acknowledge the due respect for the FlashFam. Same with Barry and his outlook into Bruce's life. Ugh, I could fangirl over them all day. I'm glad that the plot isn't too rushed, because sometimes I feel like I am just a bit. AND YES! Crane's in character? FATASTIC. I've only ever seen him twice – both times he made me want simultaneously want to hurl and write a story with him in it.

**Takua Nui: **Gripping? I like it. :) I like to try and keep a story going, moving somewhere or describing something. And isn't Scarecrow just a lovely villain? Isn't he? I mean, obviously Gotham's number one baddie is Joker, and by a long shot, but Crane defiantly has a place. A creepy man with eloquent ways to describe horror. Beautifully awful. :) Thanks for your complement!

**Irenerb:** Geez, sorry this took so long to get up. With my internet problems coupled with my inability to escape minor writer's block (not with the story, just how to word the whole chapter), this chapter was a monster. Glad you're still liking this!

**KaliAnn:** Geez, this was a tough chapter for me so I'm really glad you liked it! It means so much, and I know I keep telling you that, but it really does just make my day when a person such as yourself takes the time to turn an analytical eye on my work and then compliment it with such gusto! And plus you notice all the details I stuff in here and there. It's stuff like that that makes writing worth it! Thanks!

**Dextra2:** Considering how bittersweet this whole story is turning out to be, I kind of felt obligated to fill out an idea by Vivere Libri, which was basically a bonding moment between Artemis and Dinah – that relationship was one of my original ideas, but it kind of got overshadowed by the rest of what needed to happen and what was going on. So it feels good to have at least that part in here. :)

**And So It Ends: **I am so thrilled that people, you included, have liked the way I'm portraying Bruce/Robin's relationship. It's so complicated and yet mind-numbingly simple to them; which basically means it sounds really fun to write but totally leaves you reading and rereading everything they say. And the backspace button – that gets used a lot too. And you really don't know how much it pleases me when people notice how much detail I try to fit into my stories, and how much more it pleases me when they actually enjoy them. And I know what you're saying about how horrifically often Artemis has been tearing up lately – but remember her minor freak-out in Homefront? Much like I believe Wally's relaxed attitude is an armor, I think that Artemis's tough demeanor is her defense. Notice how quickly both of them drop the act when the tough gets going (Homefront for Artemis, and Cold Hearted and Failsafe for Wally). And you're the second person to compliment my pacing! Man, this is making my day!

**MyEnglishIsLacking**: Oh yeah, this'll probably scar a majority of them. Even Megan, even though I'd say she has the easiest out of all of them. I mean, you have to admit her life is pretty good no matter which way she ends up. So thanks for your comment :) Glad you liked the ending of that chapter!

**Ally Marton:** Before I get to your review, I just have to comment on how much I love your story. Possession is one of the best fics I have ever read. It's wonderfully paced, perfectly characterized, and gives the reader an amazing, amazing read. It's just beautiful. Stunning, really. It makes me take your complements with total admiration – just excellent. Okay, sorry – I just love your fic so much. Anyway, I am totally glad your liking my story – I mean seriously. Especially with how you're thinking it through. And your comments were amazing, especially with Robin – all the others got a lengthy explanation, but then, Robin's, ironically the most powerful, was perfectly described simply as "Robin…oh god…" My gosh. Even I feel a little bad for this. Not enough to make it any less awful, of course. But let the record show I feel bad. :)

**GIRLWONDER: **Hmm…(evil laugh) They will wake up, promise. I mean it. :) Thanks for your review. :)

**Chika-Roxy: **I would firstly like to apologize to you on how you haven't made it to the mailbag yet. That is an unfortunate lapse that I am correcting :) You're an amazing reviewer, and you always have something complimentary to say. I mean, you make my story sound so wonderfully fantastic! It's just the sort of thing that makes my day and makes me want to keep writing! I wanted you to know that your reviews have meant a lot! And thanks! I am so frustrated with my internet right now. I can't even talk about it. :/

**XxNeonShadowsxX: **Geez – I seriously smiled like a little kid with your review! You're one of those reviewers who just make writing stuff like this worth it! I also feel pretty darn accomplished – giving chills twice in a row? SWEET. And geez, the periods in between my updates are like speedster moments? ...Well, I keep saying this, but that really makes my day. It floats my boat. Actually, it's better than that. But moving on, I just really wanted to thank you again for your reviews!

**Polarbear1355: **I will tell you right now the League world is real, and Crane's world is the false one. But I'm pretty thrilled to know that it works either way. Heck, that you even like the Non-Hero world. But you're right – there will be angst. Because angst is like my writing motivation. :) I hope your mind starts hurting – and as mean as this sounds, it's awesome that this story blew your mind! :D

**Eternal mist: **Scarecrow is one of the best villains around because I think he's one of those people that are just truly evil. Like, with Freeze – he's not genuinely evil, right? He's just got some unorthodox ways of trying to cure his wife. That doesn't justify the crimes he commits, but at least there's a reason behind them. People like Crane and Joker, they're just bad for the purpose of being so. Which makes them so…awful. They act without regard for anyone, even themselves. :O So yeah, I kind of hope they both fall off a dangerously high cliff.

**Vesta Dragon: **I'm glad I'm not alone when I admit I find the idea of Roy stepping on a lego hilarious. It's only topped, in my opinion, by the thought of Batman stepping on a lego – but that can't happen because Batman is too ninja to step on a lego. So that's kind of a moot point. And yeah, Artemis will be sad…honestly, I'm worried most for her and Robin…

**Baou21: **I can't tell you how happy that makes me. I mean, legit, it's so awesome when someone describes your story like that. I really hope you enjoy this update! :D

**Lilmissfashionista: **I am always amazed by how long your reviews are. It's really nice and just awesome! Also, I'm with you – the Flash and Batfam are possibly one of the most amazing relationships I've ever seen! I don't really read slash fics, but BatFlash friendship is just epic. They complement each other very nicely, and Rob and Wally could teach a class on how to be bros. Plus, YAY! You are an amazing beta – and you and Adoglover5 make the perfect team because she is an amazing author. Oh, and there's angst in the air? *evil smile* Mission accomplished. And I totally get what you're saying – choosing between your own happiness and your protégés' would be tough – and it just goes to prove how screwed up Gotham villains are. And I'm glad you liked the Dinah/Artemis moment – I agree, they don't get enough recognition on the show. And I'll check out your fic!

**Celestialstarrynight: **LOL, "Don't spend one more minute in that wonderful place!" – wow, that will make them wake up – I seriously laughed. Like, more than appropriate. Thanks for that!

**LadyMysteri: **YAY! New reviewer/reader! *hugs* Welcome to this twisted and screwed up story that will not only rip your heart out but also make it bleed for every character! (notices you backing away). Sorry, felt the need to say that! Glad you like this story and thanks so much for reviewing! And trust me…rushing isn't an issue *sigh*

**Adoglover5:** Breaking Speed – UGH, I loves it. And what? You have a problem with my mid-chapter cliff-hangers? Haha, well – that's an unintentionally thing I just noticed! :D I like it though. And trust me – there will be speedster love. Because you know me and I love my little FlashFam. SO MUCH.

**S.S Pie: **I left you speechless? Well, thank you – legit – for telling me. I mean, I'm flabbergasted. You are an awesome reviewer and you have such a critical eye, for you to say something like that really does just make me want to…I don't know….dance or something. I also love how honest you are – yeah, even though I am a major Wally fan this really is turning me into a Robin supporter. I still love my speedster, but I honestly can say Robin and Artemis are tying in for a strong second. I'll check that book out! It sounds really good! Honestly – thanks you so much.

**M: **I think everyone is afraid of the truth – mean, I'll use me for example. I am afraid of spiders. Let's look at that – am I afraid of a tiny, miniscule creature with eight legs? Nope – I am afraid of the fact that something that tiny and fragile could kill/poison me. Am I making sense? It's a fear of the unchangeable truth – something no one has control over. Gah, it makes sense in my mind. And I'm glad you thought Roy's part was funny :)

**Seriously You Guys - Tell me what you think of the cover.**


	13. Faith

**Chapter 13: Faith**

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><p><em>Waiting was excruciating. They couldn't do anything but check the Team's vitals every now and again while trying to avoid peering down on their faces. <em>

_Batman shot a look the teens again, his eye falling on his protégé._

_Robin had seen awful things, and at the age of nine had lost his ignorance of cruelty and brutality – but now, grinning so shyly and appearing so small while he was propped up against the wall, he looked so innocent. So happy – Bruce felt disgust for Crane bubble up inside him. Batman caught sight of Barry's fists clenching and unclenching, and when the speedster returned his gaze it was fueled by worry and aggravation._

_Bruce could see his own question reflected in the other hero's eyes: Would it kill them just as much to wake them as to not? Not in the literal sense, of course, not the eternal sort of death when your heart stopped and you ceased to think and function; but instead, the sort of demise that inflicts damage to the mind and the heart. The kind that would leave them dead inside._

_Batman didn't have an answer. He would predict that the Team would get over it, like they had pushed through the training exercise, but that wouldn't stop the pain of loss. The sum of tragedies did not, in his experience, always prove your strength – cumulative damage had a way of either hardening people or breaking them. _

_Wally's stomach rumbled lightly, but the younger speedster didn't react – his expression never changed, never faltered the perpetual smirk on his face. That pulled Barry out of his irritated state and tossed him decidedly into a more depressed mood. Sighing in aggravation, Barry crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the door, as if he could will Green Arrow to melt from the shadows, or to summon Manhunter into the room, or if he just focused hard enough everything would work out._

_The seconds seemed to tick by slowly, until the faint sound of faint movement leaked in from the outside. Flash stopped leaning against the wall and both heroes turned to face the lab door as it swung open minutes later. Oliver stood, captivated in the doorway, the Martian standing a head taller from behind. _

_Flash caught sight of the surprised look on Green Arrow's face when the archer saw both of his protégés leaned up against the wall, side by side, both sporting their own unnatural grin. The shock was evident in Ollie's face – he could count the number of times he'd been able to coax a smile out of Roy on one hand, and use the other for Artemis. It took the green clad hero a brief moment before he finally stepped all the way into the lab room, moving out from under the door frame so the Martian behind him could glide through. Though J'onn also took pause at his niece's honey-coated grin, it did not appear as out of place as the others. Both heroes took care not to trip on the stray wires that were strewn across the ground, some broken but most still attached to the open pods. Both heroes went to stand by Batman and Flash. Bruce glanced at the door briefly before returning his gaze to Manhunter and Green Arrow._

"_Is Aquaman coming?" the Dark Knight asked. His voice was the first the room had heard in some time and was a welcome relief from the tense silence that had hung in the air moments earlier._

"_No." J'onn replied in monotone, "He was in Atlantis when he received the alert, busy appointing new officials and guards. He's trying to end the meeting as we speak, but even with the aid of our Zeta-Beam technology, his trip would have taken more than two hours' time. Instead he will finish and then report to Mount Justice. By that point of time we should have this situation under control."_

_Batman nodded – though Orin claimed otherwise, his main concern was the well-being of Atlantis, despite his obligations to the League. _

"_I see." Batman gestured to the unconscious team against the wall, "Let's get started, then."_

_Manhunter nodded his agreement, his cape waving slightly with the sharp turn he made as he glided over to the sleeping sidekicks. The three other heroes watched as the elder Martian's eyes began to glow a faded yellow-red, his face setting into an expression of concentration_

_Tension reclaimed the room once again, each man unintentionally holding his breath as the silence took over, only giving way to the steady sound of breathing. Minutes passed sluggishly, and the silence grew thicker and more and more unwelcome. They were all sick of waiting, Batman and Flash especially, after having been in the room for more than an hour, unable to do anything useful. _

"_What's the verdict?" Flash asked, his anxiousness getting the better of him after a few more seconds of ear-splitting silence. Though Bruce sent the speedster a look that vaguely suggested he shouldn't be breaking the Martian's focus, he didn't react and instead locked his gaze on J'onn, Green Arrow and Flash mimicking him, waiting for a reply_

"…_The collective emotion is overwhelming…" Manhunter murmured at last as his eyes dimmed, pressing the tips of his fingers lightly to his temples as if to relieve a headache, "The damage done by the gas is too great for me to wake them all up at once – I will have to go into their minds separately. But judging by the happiness and pleasant feelings the team has associated with the new reality their minds have conjured; it will pain them greatly to realize it was false." He finished, turning to face them._

_Barry and Bruce tossed a look of disgust behind them, their gaze hitting Crane, though the man was still slumped in his bindings, dead to the world._

"_We know." Flash intoned at the same time Batman gave a nod._

"_Very well – I will start. Keep in mind this process will take some time." The Martian warned, "Their belief in this world is too great to shatter all at once. The only way to safely awaken them is to have them realize it is false on their own and to accept that – I can only guide them."_

"_Do what you have to." Bruce replied instantly._

_Flash and Arrow seconded him, and Manhunter gave a tight nod. Without another word, his eyes began to glow deep as he stepped towards the Team._

* * *

><p>Conner stripped his sweaty jersey off his skin, the dampness of the material making it cling to his abdomen and peel off his skin. It was nasty, but it felt oddly good, like he was ten times cleaner just by removing his moist football uniform. He did the same with his shoulder pads and guarders before prying his cleats off his feet. Officially only clothed in his boxers by that point, having shed his socks as well, Conner sent out a silent thanks that Lois had left to get cooking supplies, deeming his performance in the game deserved a 'quality' meal, meaning no microwave – he didn't want her seeing him strutting around in boxers as he meandered his way down the hall and into the bathroom.<p>

He wasn't really dirty – despite the sweat – and even though he was sure Lois would have had a conniption if she knew, he declined the shower and simply sponged off his arms and face. He would have considered being a bit more thorough, but then he felt his head pulse lightly. It wasn't painful, but Conner jerked his head around, his hand rubbing at the base of his skull as he shifted his eyes out the door.

Weird.

Conner shook it off and headed back to his room, digging around his drawers and pulling out a pair of sweat pants and a plain black tee and putting them on. His head still ached, faintly though, more of a reminder than a full-fledged headache.

"Where does Lois keep the Aspirin?" he mumbled to himself, opening the bedroom door he'd closed in case Lois came back home.

As soon as he opened the door, though, thoughts of the headache were replaced by shock – his eyes went wide as the world flickered a bit, like someone had flipped a light-switch on and off as quick as they could. He felt the doorknob bend in his hands, the metal crunching a bit as it molded to fit his grip.

He pulled his hand away quickly, his senses suddenly lighting up like fire. His whole body was suddenly alert, suddenly as cautious as it had been in the simulation when he was Superboy. He felt the sudden change, the sudden power, and in that moment he could sense how _fragile _everything around him was.

"What…?" He asked, his voice unusually tight – no. This…this didn't make sense. It was impossible. He shouldn't have been able to do that. He was Conner Kent – Superboy was an alter ego his brain had supplied when the doctors were messing with his mind and making him believe he was a superhero. Conner Kent didn't bend doorknobs.

But it was there. That power – not as strong as Superman had been, but…but still power. Raw, untrained, unrestrained power. His muscles tensed, and he faintly heard the sound of cars and other city noises starting to overload his brain – superhearing was back too, apparently.

"_Not real"_

Conner winced at the voice, so monotone and solemn, so grave and unyielding.

But once the voice had finished, everything else did too – the noises died suddenly, like someone had hit the mute button on the remote. His strength faded away, his senses dulled back to normal.

Conner stood rigid, staring down at his hands and then to doorknob that was still distorted into the shape of his palm. He felt strange, sick, almost. He shouldn't have been able to do that...

"Conner!" a voice rang out, the sound of the door swinging open, "I'm back from the store! Could you lend me a hand? You're strong enough to take a few of these of my hands."

Conner shook his head to clear his mind, heading towards the entrance, he softly said, "Well, I'm not _that_ strong."

* * *

><p>Wally was at track practice, keeping pace with James and Hartley. His body was filled with delight, falling into the gentle rhythm of movement. His legs burning with energy, he had no trouble running along with the other two. James was a little slower than both him and Hartley, but Wally figured it was only because the blonde was shorter, and his strides had to be quicker to keep up. Hartley jogged beside him, humming a small tune that kept the beat for their footfalls. The run was enjoyable, leisurely. Wally smiled, listening to James huff out a long story about a prank he'd pulled on his teacher as they ran, when he felt a pulse reverberate around the back of his head. It didn't hurt, but it instead felt like a ghost of pain.<p>

Suddenly, the quick pace didn't seem fast enough. It was _slow_, like he was crawling. Wally's eyes fastened onto the horizon – he had to _move_. Energy was flowing through him, begging him to speed up, and his muscles tensed, urging him to pick up the pace. The time around him was lethargic, and he was running through molasses. He quickly flicked a look at Hartley, and his hum was not so steady anymore. Instead of the brisk beat he'd been maintaining, it sounded sluggish. He was itching to speed things up.

He had to _move_.

So Wally _ran_.

Before he even knew what was happening, the energy escaped and the scenery of the track blurred into a beautiful mess – the green trees streaked into the blue sky, their trunks seemed to bleed into the grass, and sounds blended together – he was really running. He released a genuine smile before the smile froze with horror as he realized what he was doing. He wasn't running – he was _running_.

"WhoaWhoaWhoaWhoa!" Wally muttered, his words falling out at high speed. He dug his heels into the ground, trying to back pedal. The sudden motion caused him to trip, and he fell forwards, painfully skidding across the track. He felt himself roll off the rubbery exterior of the track and slide to a halt as he rolled into the grass that lay just outside the track's ring.

"Whatwasthat? Whatwasthat?" Wally mumbled quickly, feeling his whole body shift into hyper drive. The skin he'd felt tear when he'd raked his shoulder and back against the ground were tingling, and he recognized the once familiar feeling of speedhealing bandaging up his wounds – he felt them fading already, the stinging pain being replaced by a cool numb and then just regular.

That wasn't right. Thatwasn'tright. He'd just run at superspeed. Heck, he'd just _healed _with superspeed. Hewasthinkinginsuperspeed. What was going on? Whatwaswrongwithhim? He wasn't a speedster! Not anymore. He wasn't _really_ Kid Flash – that hadn't happened. Ithadn'thappened. That was some simulation – this was real life. Thiswasreallife. Notsomegame. Thatwasfake. Thiswasreal.

"_Not real" _A calm voice whispered in his head.

Notreal? Notreal? Whattheheck? What –

Suddenly the speed seemed to ebb, the hyperactive energy flowing out of his body just as quickly as it had come. He sat up, trying to think things through when he caught sight of Hartley and James staring at him funny.

He was so screwed. How did he explain that? How _could_ he explain that?

But what they said next took him by almost greater surprise than the sudden speed.

"Wally, you're so _slow_ sometimes." James whined playfully, shaking his head in mock disappointment.

"Yeah," Hartley agreed, a smirk dancing on his face, "I can't believe you chickened out on that last lap. Good thing this is practice – if this had been a meet you might have lost your place as number one."

Wally blinked. They had to be kidding.

"Did you guys not _see _that?" Wally questioned, disbelief in his tone.

"What was there to see?" Hartley asked, "You were napping."

"What?" They weren't serious. They couldn't be.

"Yup," James commented with a chuckle tingeing his words, "You said something about being tired and then, while we toiled away on out last mile, you were sleeping and snoring away."

Wally blinked.

He felt stupid, because he could remember that now. His eyes growing heavy and turning off for a quick power-nap. Yet…he hadn't been tired.

But there was no other explanation. There wasn't any way he'd really _run_. He wasn't Kid Flash – he hadn't ever _really_ had superspeed.

He felt himself being pulled up by Hartley.

"Come on," his friend said once Wally was on his feet, "Let's go get some water from the cooler – I'm parched."

"Parched? Is that even a word?" James laughed, trotting along beside them as they made their way over to the opposite end of the track.

"It means thirsty." Hartley sighed before showing off a superior smirk, "I have a vast vocabulary far beyond your comprehension – but I can't use it around my brain-dead friends."

"Oh, the woes of an intellectual," Wally dramatically sighed, sarcasm drenching his words – but he hardly paid attention to the rest of the playful banter, his mind lingering on the run. He remembered time suddenly slowing down to a crawl, how he felt the impulse to simply take off. He felt silly mulling over a dream, but it'd just felt so _real_…The redhead sighed.

It wasn't.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>In case I didn't explain this very well, here's what's going down: Manhunter can't just go and wake them all up. It'd shock their minds too much, too much mental strain. Plus, their brains have accepted the reality – it'd be like if you blinked right now and suddenly you were being looked at by your aunts and uncles (who were actually your mentors) in spandex all saying, "Hey. Guess what? Those dreams you had of being a superhero were real – your perfect life is mirage induced by gas." Only much, much worse. So, instead, he has to get _them _to accept the reality can't be real by poking holes in it – once there's some doubt, he can go in and wake them up without frying their brains. By the way, as a side-note, the simulation is all going on at the same time. So, when Conner felt the pulse (Manhunter), Wally felt it. The same with the others – they all felt it too. Okay, I think I got this covered. Phew. :)

P.S: GO WATCH "DEPTHS". Just do it. JUST DO IT. The feels! The wonderful feels!

**Author's Mailbag:**

**TO ALL: **The cover got some pretty positive feedback. Thanks you guys!

**Irenerb: **While I do love a good dose of Fear Gas in my stories, I'm glad you liked the change up. And while Happy Gas (the unofficial name I have for whatever Scarecrow cooked up for the Team) is a pretty unoriginal title, I will go into my own defense here and point out the Crane called the gas that gives people nightmares _Fear Gas_. LOL, creativity obviously isn't a requirement obviously isn't high up there on his list.

**KaliAnn:** Nope, the adults _are_ kind of lost. But wouldn't you be too? I mean, it'd be pretty hard to take in. I'm glad you liked the scene with Wally and Dick – they really are my two favorite male characters (Artemis FTW)! Thanks for you review!

**Firefighter1357: **Hmm…Batman's probably going into that creepily calm "I'm going to kill you slowly and as painfully as humanly possible." Mode. Eh, you don't screw with Robin – Dick is basically his son. Or close enough to it – and let's face, Batman's circle of friends and family aren't that infinite – he has tons of colleagues and people who respect him, but outside one or two members of the League, a few cop buddies, and Alfred, and Robin, the guys pretty much isolates himself (Even if Bruce Wayne is a party boy, I really think he only enjoys his work as Batman). :)

**Baou21**: Yes! Glad you enjoyed the last chapter! Okay, I also hope you enjoy how this is dealt with…I absolutely agree with what you said about the whole 'happiness issue' – I mean, of course they'll wake them up, but they don't want to hurt them. *sigh* I'm an evil person.

**LadyMysteri:** LOL, I love that! But dude, Kleenex is totally acceptable. :) Seriously – I love Rage Comics, so that made my day!

**Celestialstarrynight: **Horrible attempt? Pfft, please. And, yeah, the cover IS really tiny, almost horribly so…ugh. However, I am going to leave it as-is because…Okay, I won't lie – it's acceptable and I'm WAY too busy to go and either draw something or scan the internet for something with no copyright. :) And I know right? No matter how much you warn the characters, they never listen Poor Dick…

**Dreamwritergoddess: **Thanks! I wish I could take all the credit for it, but really I just used an old screenshot and some coloration editing with GIMP. But I AM thrilled you like it! :D

**XxNeonShadowsxX: **Sweet! Love that you love the color! :D Also, high five! I mean, you're an amazing reviewer (and author – ugh, so much amazing!) and to know that you like my reviews too is just awesome! Really excited for Chapter Three, by the way! And dude….I LOVE OXMORONS (jumbo shrimp, ear-splitting silence, burning cold, etc)! So now, I'm loving "false reality". Thanks! Also, I'm relieved the circus scene was well received. When I was writing I was like, "I'm a monster". But…but I kept doing it because I'm evil like that. :) Thanks for your review!

**Dextra2**: SWEET! Thanks for letting me know you liked the cover! That's a relief – I wasn't looking forward to changing it if it wasn't liked! :D Really, thank you! :)

**LittleEvilAngel:** Whoa, favorite author? Well, it's official – I'm giggling and smiling like an idiot :) Thank you, so much! :) That's an AMAZINGLY wonderful compliment! And, no, I won't be killing anyone :)

**Eternal Mist: **Dude! Okay, man…Robin crying…Oh geez. Well, no promises, okay? :/ Thank you for your review :) Hope you like the next chapter!

**Vivere Libri:** I can live with creepy, LOL :) And you do a good job with encouragement – it's really nice to get reviews like yours! And you're totally right – one good review can mean the world to an author! :) Sprry for killing you with feels – but I'm also kinda not X) Sorry if this took a while – I was going to post it two days ago, but then the internet shut down again – So frustrating!

**Ghostdog401: **Glad you caught onto the hidden panic attacks – They're heroes, so I can't have them exactly freak out, run in circles, and cry tears of sorrow – I can however, do what I'm doing and hope they don't seem cold and heartless. :) And great! I'm not the only person who noticed that Bats is almost always facing down his baddies in old buildings by a dock! :D

**Violet Eternity: **There should be club or something that celebrates character torture. But it'd probably turn into a reform group. i.e: "Hello, I'm Inscriber, and I'm a torture addict." "Hi, Inscriber" X)

**GIRLWONDER:** No one, especially me, wants to see you cry – but if you do, I promise to get a Kleenex or something :) But they'll wake up, promise :D

**Just Watch Me:** ….Well, this is embarrassing. Thanks for pointing that out – I'll go back and edit when I have some extra time on my hands! :) Thank you for pointing that out! (Love the username by the way!)

**Fox Alder: **You cried five times? Am I horrible person for loving that I could write something that makes someone cry? :) Well, I am sorry you cried! I mean, your compliments were really awesome! It's nice to get reviews like that, you know? Especially when they're as nice as yours was! I'm glad you're thinking through all the possibilities! :D

**Chika-Roxy: **Gah, it's not even that my internet is _failing_, it's that it turns on and off all the time – like it shuts off randomly, starts randomly, and is never consistent with how often it's on or off. :/ Ugh. I wish internet _didn't_ fail…even if it _does_ happen to everyone. Glad you understand. Sorry about your toes being numb XD Loed how you put that though – I'm all flattered! DID YOU SEE DEPTHS! FAVE EPISODE! Just pure awesome! :D

**DarthZ:** Yeah, that _does_ tend to put a damper on the mood. :/ poor Dick.

**Polarbear1355: **I am so sorry your heart hurts! Also, I love how you're talking about how much your heart hurts, and then you say, "Can't wait for more!" LOL, that made me snort!

**JadeBrycin2116: **Hey, no problem! You've got an awesome story rolling and I can't stress how much I love it! You deserved that shout-out!

**Anbu Fox: **Thanks! And yes! Another person likes the cover! Really, thanks for letting me know! :D Oh, and yes. There will be emotional scarring from this probably.

**Kaydreams: **You called my story intense! :D That really did just make my day so much right there! Thanks so much! I mean, that was a really nice review! I hope you liked this chapter and that it didn't ruin your expectations!

**S.S Pie: **Whoa. I mean really, whoa. That is really, really, well thought out. Actually, I'm going to use this, because it actually fits for something I have to do a few chapters from now. Really, this is astounding and I love you so much right now. I'll PM you later to thank you appropriately and maybe give you a hint at what I have planned! :D Sincerely, thank you so much for pointing this out. You are a truly amazing reviewer. You deserve a reward or something.

**Vesta Dragon: **LOL, here's some MORE! :) And I'm excited to _write _the aftermath of this! :D Thank you for the review!

**Alamondie: **Err, oops :) Yeah, I just went back over and read that…So, I double-checked this chapter and I think it's all good. If you see anything though, feel free to point it out! I'll go back and edit that last chapter later! Thank you sincerely for pointing that out. Stories with those mistakes take away from the writing. :) Thank you!


	14. Death of Magic

**Chapter 14: Death of Magic**

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><p>"I will be right back," Giovanni promised, his mustache curling into a reassuring smile as he pushed the brim of his silky top hat up into a more comfortable position. He was in full uniform, suited up, less than two hours away from show time. He was heading over to the stage director's waiting room for a last minute schedule lay out, as well as to pick up a stage set for the second part of the magic show that had shipped to the theatre late. Zatanna nodded casually from her perch atop a rather large wooden crate that was scooted against right wing of the stage, out of sight from where the audience would be.<p>

"Okay, I'll be here," the young magician promised, giving her dad a gentle wave before she watched Giovanni disappear behind the shutting stage entrance – the door made a horrible whining sound that cried out the age of the ancient theatre; and then she was alone, the thin bright lights that dangled from electric-powered chandeliers giving life to the otherwise empty space. She was proud of herself for being able to leave her father's side. She hadn't had the courage since the doctor's visit, those few weeks ago. She'd been so terrified that if she left his side for more than a few seconds, she'd find him again with a golden helmet hiding away his smile-worn face and a voice that was smeared with power. Irrational as the fear was to her, it felt like a stone that rattled deep inside of her, cold and slick. However, she'd conquered it for the most part, enough to let him leave her presence for short amounts of time. He'd promised to never leave her, and she believed him. He was her father, all she had in terms of family. And she loved him, so she would believe him and hold him to it.

Itching for the time to regain a slightly faster pace than it had slowed to, Zatanna pushed the thoughts out of her head shrewdly, banishing them from her mind before she hopped off the crate and moved towards the prop-box her father had left openly on the stage. She quickly started sorting through it to find a couple of trick-link rings, a deck of magic cards, and a couple of small jugging ball – simple magic props to get her hands and mind ready for a show. The trick-cards were her favorite though, the feeling of them being shuffled against her hand, all fifty-two of them on her side as she weaved the right cards where she needed them, the unsuspecting audience oblivious to her charade but delighted with the result. Plus, all the kids loved them, loved to volunteer from the crowd – the looks of awe and enchantment as the cards danced from hand to hand, always a show that ended with them giggling, nodding as they admitted that, yes, that _was_ their card. Smiling to herself at some of the memories, Zatanna plucked the deck out of the box before retreating back to her self-designated crate and began to absent mindedly shuffle the cards.

A few minutes later as she was shifting through the deck, without warning, Zatanna felt something click in her brain, like a switch had been flipped, like someone had plugged her in. Her head momentarily roared with a dull pain, but then, feeling like a locked door was being swung open, words started to poor out of her mouth. Zatanna wanted to gasp in surprise, wanted to yelp in shock, but she _couldn't_. Her mouth was preoccupied with the words spilling out of it, each one powerful, twisted, and backwards. She tried to, but she couldn't stop, couldn't shut herself up – and the stage was turning into a mess. Pure chaos was filtering throughout the room, an energy, a _magic,_ that swept up her father's props and sets – her deck of cards was fluttering through the air, the box she was on tumbled forwards, and she would have fallen had she not heard herself cry out some misshapen word and found her decent stopped suddenly. The crate was not so lucky and tumbled to the side, crashing loudly and allowing costumes to spill out, and then she herself was tossed unceremoniously into the heap of clothes. Doves from the cages were somehow free, magic rings span through the air, a ridiculously long chain of multicolored hankies trailing out of them. Gloves and balls sailed through the sky, tables and cloths crawled across the floor, the theatre shook – and she couldn't _stop_.

Zatanna hugged her herself, her heart threatening to pound straight through her chest as she laid there, curled up on the stage floor, on top of sequence-coated costumes of every color as she watched the props and sets jump and soar, seemingly at her command. Terror and wonder filled her very being, like it was literally pumping through her lungs – she couldn't breathe, couldn't think; she just _couldn't_. It felt like it took forever to process the simple fact that this _couldn't _be happening. She'd just been practicing magic, like it was no big deal – because it _wasn't, _magic was fake, and she didn't have powers. That's all, making cards appear or vanish with slight-of-hand and roundabout tricks that fooled the eye and pleased the mind.

But this – it was disastrous. She could feel the stage quivering beneath her feet, unused to such activity. She couldn't stop though; her mouth had a mind of its own. Her voice bubbled up around her, wind picked up and her hair danced excitedly in the newfound breeze. It was dizzying, and she'd just wanted to stop and _think_ for a minute, but that was a bit hard at the moment.

"_What's wrong with me?"_ the young magician had shrieked in her head, a wind appearing out of nowhere and tousling her night-colored hair. Her clothes had started to melt away, her costume was on without her permission, but the words _kept on coming_. Which shouldn't have been happening – she wasn't really magic! She wanted to spit _that_ into wind, to remind the world that this was real-life and that magic _didn't belong here._

It'd just been some test designed by doctors to study the brain or something! Zatanna felt tears come to the edges of her eyes without her consent, felt them knock at her like prisoners desperate to escape. Words enveloped her, a torrent of mish-mash that she just couldn't end. Her throat tightened, she felt lightheaded, but she hadn't been able to force air down her windpipe_, "Make it stop!" _she screamed inside her head desperately. She wanted to cry from the stress, wanted to scream, but her lips were touched by magic phrases she hadn't spoken since the simulation.

She needed somebody, anybody – but no her father. She felt anxiety rise up, swell inside her chest and choke her when she was already struggling to capture breaths in-between her backwards words. If her father came and saw this magic…this real magic…What would that mean? What on Earth would that mean? She had to stop, fast, before he came back. That world of powers and magicians, that was fake. The alternative would mean her father was lost forever, trapped by Nabu, a Lord of Order that claimed to be a force of good but caused so much hurt. And that couldn't be true, couldn't be real.

She needed _someone_. The words kept coming, she couldn't _think_, just _knew_ she needed somebody that could help her. She needed a friend, one that could keep her secret, one that she knew.

"Pelh!" Her fumbling lips trembled amongst the torrent of words – and then her throat constricted, because instantly after her cry, she saw a shimmering light begin to appear in front of her. A shimmering light that was quickly dimming into a familiar, shocked, face.

* * *

><p>Artemis had been in the school cafeteria, listening to some friends of hers babble on about stuff that involved boys and volleyball team try-outs. At least, the photos in her room told her these private-school students were her friends, her memories hadn't exactly perked up quite as quickly as the doctor's had promised. She had names and faces down, but as to personality and the rest of usual remembrances…she was lost. She felt at home by them though, even if she hadn't exactly been paying close attention to their endless but cheerful jabbers as she'd chewed on the pizza she'd bought.<p>

That's where she _had_ been. Until she'd blinked.

Suddenly the smells of the lunch hall had been swept away, becoming a musky scent like the smell that haunted old books and worn pages, a homely but welcome fragrance. The bright school walls and the numerous posters and school achievement boards were gone in the blink of an eye, replaced by old wooden walls that were decorated with old wallpaper and wall-hung lights. The fluorescent lights that had sparkled above her were gone, and the archer blinked in the comparatively dim light that appeared to travel down from some chandeliers. It looked like an old theatre, her feet on a wobbly wooden board of a stage and a curtain that she faced…but that didn't make sense. Artemis's senses jumped and she became instantly more alert, an uneasy tremor claiming her heart as she took the rest of her surroundings into account – starting with quickly executed duck as she leapt out of the way of a magic wand that was being chased by a horde of other magic props and streamers – _that were flying_.

"What the-?" Artemis began, her voice not quite able to form the words she'd been going to say as she turned to follow the scene and found chaos at play behind her. Tables were scraping themselves across the floors, red cloths and black magician capes following as the themselves were tailed by fifty-two playing cards that swirled through the air. Costumes were exploding into confetti that would instantly implode into costumes, doves were cooing excitedly as they dived through the sky to dodge flying rings, magic hats, white gloves, and the magic wand that she had escaped from earlier. Her mouth kind of hung there for a second before Artemis regained her composure with an astounding speed – and then her eyes made contact with another pair, a pair that a clear crystal-blue and held astonishment, in their depths, terror as well. A pair that she recognized. A pair she shouldn't be seeing.

"_Zatanna?_" Artemis asked in mild shock, taking in her friend's frazzled appearance. Her black hair was messily thrown in all directions, some stands sweeping into her face, her face was pale, and her eyes were lined with red. But worst of all, she had her costume on. The one from the simulation. And she was talking in the same strange language, except she didn't appear like she wanted to be. Her hands were clamped over her mouth, and she seemed anxious to keep her lips from parting with another single word, "Zatanna, what's going on?" Artemis asked, carefully walking up to the younger girl's side and starting to detach her from some of the clothes that had tangled up around her and trying to pull her to her feet.

Zatanna stirred at the contact, muffled noises still escaping her and her eyes filled with confusion and then terror as she stared at Artemis. She shook her head fiercely, her body trembling. She had to fight for control of her own tongue as she leaned against Artemis's shoulder – and then she seemed to gain some footing. Actually, her whole body relaxed.

The constant noise of word babble died off from her throat, and her trembling lips gave way to silence. Zatanna released a heavy sigh as she felt the plug weaken, whatever force that had gripped her easing its hold. The stage around them paused for a second, and then the flying objects fell like puppets cut from their strings, back into boxes that had somehow, strangely, returned to their proper places. Table were turned upright once again, and Artemis blinked in surprise as Zatanna's costume seemed to melt back into a thin tee-shirt and jeans.

"That…shouldn't be possible. _This_ shouldn't be possible." Zatanna murmured, her throat no longer raw. She felt Artemis shift beside her, and she whipped her head around to face her, "_You_ shouldn't be here."

Artemis nodded, her eyes narrow, "How did you do that? Why I am I here? What _just happened?_" she demanded, feeling confusion bubble up inside of her. She'd _just_ gotten comfortable here, in real life. She'd been _happy._ She felt the confusion transform into anger – couldn't life make sense for _thirty freaking seconds?!_

Zatanna flinched at Artemis's voice, "I don't know! I just…I couldn't stop – I wanted to…" She seemed to struggle for words, but then she gave up, turning her blue eyes on Artemis, "The whole hero thing was a simulation. It was-"

"_Not real"_, a sudden voice clarified stiffly. The tone was calm and reassuring, but both girls fliced as it echoed in their minds. It was stern, but with the fading echoes it left in their minds, Zatanna felt the grip on her release, felt the energy of magic die off.

"Did you here that?" Zatanna murmured to Artemis. There was no reply. Zatanna quickly spun her head around the room, but the archer was gone; along with the mess. The sage was clean, untouched. Like even the building had forgotten the magic and the archer.

Was _tha_t what hadn't been real? Had Artemis been what the voice was talking about…but what since did that make-

The sound of the stage door creaking open filled the room, and Zatanna felt her heart go numb as her father walked in, followed by a couple of movers who were carrying a the missing stage set.

"Ten minutes 'til show," Giovanni said gleefully as he walked up to Zatanna, who was standing stock-still in the left wing, right where he had left her, "I hope it wasn't too boring waiting for me," he smiled.

"Trust me, it wasn't." Zatanna whispered before she hugged her father quickly, her eyes screwed shut as her arms threw themselves around his neck and she nestled her face into the long collars of his suit jacket, "I love you, Dad."

* * *

><p>"<em>Not real."<em>

Artemis blinked, and she was back in the cafeteria. Kids were eating, her friends were laughing, the lunch room was just how she had left it. The theatre was gone, Zatanna was nowhere in sight. She glanced around, and she was still at her table, still around chatty girls and flirty boys.

She half-expected someone to ask her what had happened, expected her table to be wide-eyed and scared. But instead, they kept talking like nothing had happened. Like they hadn't noticed her absence, as if she's never left.

"_Not real?"_ Artemis asked in her mind, thinking back to the voice's parting words, "_Nothing is, anymore._"

* * *

><p><strong>AUTHOR'S APOLOGY – err, I mean Note: <strong>Guys. Guys. OMG, I am _soo_ sorry. I haven't been on in a _long time._ Months. I have a long list of things that kind of melded together into a big boiling pot of wrong, schedule wise. I went on vacation, so no internet. I come back, the computers are infected with some god-awful virus that ate up _all_ of my rough drafts (and my pictures), and then I joined XC, and then school started, and finally my computers were fixed and I was like, "_Okay, I got this_," – aaaand Writer's Block. Severe. I spent half an hour, seriously, staring at a blank screen going, "_What…?"_ So anyway, long excuse short, I finally have time to write again. Thanks, so _so_ much for all of your support. I will answer previous reviews through PM, because I have a lot of homework I need to get done. But I just can't express how sorry I am and how much it means to me that you all kept reviewing, and the kind check-ups a few of you sent to make sure I was okay. I can't make this up, but I hope you all enjoyed the chapter. Thank you. It means so much.

~Inscirber.

PS: I'M BACK, FANFICTION.


	15. Too Perfect

**Chapter 15: Too Perfect**

* * *

><p>He could feel her, smell her, <em>taste<em> her as her lips met his. She was restless as the ocean, and just as deep. Her orange hair that mimicked the color of a setting sun, and it was soft as sand as he pulled his fingers through Tula's hair. Her skin was pressed against his, warm and smooth as she pressed himself into him – she smelled like home. Her mouth was locked against his, and he could taste the currents of the sea, could feel how alive she was. She moved with the power and grace of the ocean, and he loved it. From her eyes, vibrant and clean, glimmering with ocean-blue, to her sun-kissed skin, she was the ocean he missed. She was his home.

In the simulation, he'd missed her. He'd watched her from afar as they'd practiced magic, had befriended her and cherished the words they'd shared. He'd always thought she was more beautiful than any other, both in spirit and in appearance. From the kindness she displayed from to the smile she wore, she was perfect. However, in the reality the doctor's had given him, his path had lead away from hers. His love had become pain, and he'd watched her slip away into Garth's waiting arms. He'd felt his heart bleed, and though his position as leader had become more direct as a result, it didn't stop the loneliness. It hadn't healed the wound she'd left, but to ask her to do otherwise was selfish. He'd let her go. Up on the Land, there was a saying that promised that there were always more fish in the sea. But he didn't want just anyone, he'd wanted _her_. He'd wanted her so badly, but for the sake of both his best friend and Tula, he'd given up his petty desires and taken on the leadership role. It'd hurt, but no one had known. It'd been for the best; it was his duty to be strong, a leader. He'd given up any obligation to himself the moment he'd been selected as leader, and he'd respected that…despite what the consequences were.

She pulled away from him gently – he was never the first; he'd never leave her again. He'd never let that happen, never let her slip away. He was free, finally – he had no team, wasn't responsible for them. He was allowed to be selfish now, to have and hold Tula without spitting in the eye of authority or turning his back to his friends.

"You better go," she whispered, her eyes bright with happiness as she looked at him, "Practice starts in seven minutes, and I don't think coach wants you wasting time."

"Forgive me," Kaldur murmured, catching a lock of her short hair and twisting it around his finger before she leaned in for a last kiss, "But I would not use the term 'wasted' to describe my time with you," he finished, and she giggled when her let her go.

They were alone at the edge of the school's pool, the team having not yet arrived. Without warning, Tula developed a mischievous grin before diving at him for one last hug. Kaldur smiled and spread out his arms, waiting for her to fall into them – but instead her hands landed square on his chest, and pushed him into the water.

The movement took him by surprise, and he tumbled backward, hitting the water with a splash – at that moment, a faint headache rumbled near the base of his skull. He felt the water suddenly as he sank into it, felt the sweet liquid filter through his gills. It was soothing, a ghost of familiarity – Kaldur's thoughts took pause…_his gills_? That wasn't possible; his Atlantean body had been the creation of doctors and scientists. He shouldn't be able to breathe – but he could. He felt it, and felt how _good_ it was, how _natural._

But he was a fish out of water, and he felt frantic as he thought of Tula – what if she saw? What would she say? How could he explain what he himself could not comprehend? How could he explain the impossible?

Before he could fully wrap his head around the strange development, he heard a whisper in his mind.

"_Not real,"_ the voice explained simply – it sounded achingly familiar, so calm and stern. He recognized the voice, wanted it to speak again.

But his concentration was broken as hands wrapped around his arms and pulled him to the surface in a quick, almost frantic, fashion. His head broke surface, and Kaldur's hands lung automatically to his neck before he was even aware of his motions – he felt smooth bare skin meet his fingertips. The hands wrapped around his arms belonged to Garth, Kaldur realized, as he turned his head and coughed on some water he hadn't properly filtered.

"Kal? Kal, you okay?" Garth asked – Tula was on the edge of the pool, her eyes alight with the same worry that tinted Garth's own expression. She looked sick – both of them did.

"Fine," Kaldur coughed a bit more, shaking his head to get water from his ears, "Perfectly fine." _Rather confused, however,_ he added silently in his mind.

Because for a few seconds, he'd lost his grip on reality. He'd been an Atlantean, he'd felt responsible, more _awake_ than he had in…since he left the doctor's office.

"I'm just fine."

* * *

><p>Artemis walked up to Roy's room, giving the closed door a few dainty knocks. The sun had long since faded from view, and the house was asleep. It was quite, and even her nimble footsteps sounded like falling anvils to her ears. Artemis had crept out of her room silently once she was positive they were all asleep – even Dinah, who by some miracle was immune to Ollie's persistent snores. She <em>really<em> didn't want to wake them up, didn't want them to catch her. They already thought she was emotionally out-of-whack since the simulation, but she didn't wasn't to add 'crazy' to their list. Admittedly, a part of her considered the possibility she might actually be crazy. For right now though, she needed to believe she was sane, and it was just the world that had gone nuts before her eyes – Artemis sighed. That sounded like something a crazy person would hope for. She _was_ knocking at Roy's door at two in two in the morning, praying he would hear her before either of her adopted parents woke up.

Artemis sighed, knocking quietly again, her heart thudding in her chest. The pounding rhythm of her breathing would wake Roy up before her stupid knocking did.

She originally had been planning on keeping the whole "Zatanna" incident to herself. Mostly because she didn't want to sound irrational. But it'd been gnawing on her all day, tailing every stray thought – Zatanna's scared eyes piercing into her own as the magician told her she shouldn't be there kept flashing into her mind. Because she shouldn't have been there. Her friend shouldn't have had magic phrases charging out of her mouth, and it shouldn't have _worked_ even if she had. Something was going on, and Artemis tried to ignore it. But the images haunted her. She needed to tell someone, and Roy was the least likely to throw her into the arms of the Looney Bin.

"Roy?" she hissed at the door quietly, frantic for a moment, worried he wouldn't wake up, but then she heard a groan and she perked up. Heavy footfalls made their way towards the door, and Artemis backed up right before the door swung lazily open. Roy was standing in front of her in a white tank top and boxers, a tired look on his face that appeared to have barely settled before his mouth fell open into a yawn. His red hair was spiked up and messy, and his eyes took a second to settle on her.

For a brief moment she wandered how he'd managed to pull himself together and follow her to Gotham, but before she could muse for too long, Roy clamped his mouth shut, effectively stifling the yawn.

"Artemis? Do you have any idea what time it is?" he asked, his voice more awake than he'd appeared moments before. His need to speak had brought him back to life, and a few eye blinks later he seemed to have collected himself before he got an exasperated look on his face, "Don't tell me you're going to Gotham again."

"No," Artemis snapped before letting out an apologetic expression spread as it took over her face, "I just need to talk to you."

"It couldn't have waited until sunrise?" Roy grumbled rhetorically before he pushed the door open wider for the younger archer to come in, "Come on, before Dinah wakes up. She's a light sleeper."

Artemis nodded and slipped into the room, the door shutting behind her. Roy's room was on the sparser side, so Artemis stood and Roy planted his back onto his bed, his sheets a mess beneath him as he faced the ceiling.

"Why are you at my door at two in the morning?" he asked pointedly, not facing her. She felt the conversation stiffen – her breath catching as her brain took in everything at once. It wasn't Roy who'd killed the flow they'd been creating, it was Artemis as she felt her worries collide into her, embrace her. What she said now would either ease her frustrations, confirm them, or endorse the possibility that Artemis Crock was, in fact, crazy.

Piercing blue eyes stared at her with accusation, piercing her soul – begging and pleading…and scared, terrified of what her presence would mean.

Artemis caught the reactions, those unsure emotions hitting her radar like a flare in the night. Her mouth went dry – _Roy knew_.

Or at least, something equally abnormal had happened to him.

Relief flooded through her, her previous uncertainty falling from her shoulders. Breathing became suddenly easier, like a giant weight had been shifted from her chest. Her shoulders sagged like she'd physically dropped a heavy burden – the liberation was extreme. She felt like her old self suddenly, felt strong and unyielding. She wasn't afraid of Dinah's interference or of Roy's opinion.

Roy watched her transformation in silence before releasing a defeated sigh – he could read her as well as she'd read him.

The redhead paused, "It happened to you too." It wasn't a question. Just a statement. Artemis had never seen Roy look so…tired before, with the bags under his eyes. He sat up straighter and, despite the bags she could see forming under his eyes, gave her an analytical look, "What happened with you?"

"I was in the lunchroom. And suddenly, I guess, I was with Zatanna." Artemis started to explain.

"Zatanna? The magician girl?" Roy asked in mild surprise.

Artemis nodded, her eyes locked onto him, watching his reactions just as pointedly as he was eyeing hers, "Yeah, it gets weirder. She was using _magic_, and things were flying everywhere. We were on some sort of old stage, and I think she must've been getting ready for a magic show, because random props were all around us, in the air, trying to walk – a wand tried to kebab me. Zatanna looked like she just wanted it all to stop – she looked…scared."

"If she was using magic, why wouldn't she just stop it?" Roy questioned, an inquisitive look on his face. Artemis got the idea that Roy was looking for a loophole.

"It didn't look like she could control what was going on. I ran over to ask her what was going on, and then a voice was in my head."

Roy's eyebrows shot up in recognition.

"Same thing happened to me. When I was practicing in the archery range. I kept missing this shot, or something kind of stupid like that, but then my arrows couldn't miss. Some voice came into my head, and told me '_Not real', _and then it was gone."

Artemis gave a tight frown and nodded, "Something's going on."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Okay, yet another no PM. I just want to publish this or I never will. Honestly guys, thanks for all the kind words, I mean everyone has been giving really encouraging reviews. And good ones too, nice and full of compliments! Thank you guys. It really means a lot to me :)<strong>


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